Office of the Dead
by texasPanzer
Summary: The undead are rising in Scranton and now Dunder Mifflin is going to be the new home for the office mates as they try to survive.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters to The Office. They are owned by NBC.

It was winter in Scranton, Pennsylvania, yet there was still no snow on the ground. However, it was freezing. Inside their heated building those of Dunder-Mifflin Paper were just tapping on their keyboards, calculators, and answering phones as outside there was something happening. Dwight Schrute, assistant-to-the regional manager of the office came running into the office panting for breath, as if he had been running for a mile. His desk mate Jim looked over to his right from his seat and rather nonchalantly, "What's up, Dwight?"

"There are zombies outside, folks," the man said loudly and pointed with one hand back from which he came. Erin of reception lifted up her head puzzled from her work.

"So, wait, there are zombies outside the building?" Jim said still sitting in his chair rather relaxed and not believing the rants of a guy he has worked with known to be paranoid beyond belief.

"Yes," Dwight said then his eyes looked at the rest of the office whom did also not believe the story. Even Phyllis merely scoffed and went back to work as Stanley picked up the phone for another call to a client. There was the resumed casual chatter before the front door of the office flung open and Michael came charging in, his suit a mess, mouth agape, and eyes jut open to their fullest extent.

"Michael, what is it?" Erin rose up from her seat, face showing fear.

"Oh my God!" her boss screamed, "They just ate the I.T. guy!"

Heads immediately swiveled around as Michael stood there, panting for breath, then he collapsed to the floor. Dwight rushed in and picked Michael off the floor and began examining his boss for bite marks.

As he was coming to Pam turned her chair around and asked, "Who ate Saqid?" as Michael shooed off Dwight and collected himself on the small couch beside Erin's desk.

"No. The IT guy," Michael coughed.

"That's his name," she corrected but Michael waved her off.

"He deserved it anyway. He was a terrorist but still. There are zombies outside the office!" he yelled again.

Downstairs Hank, head of security, locked the doors to the building as Dwight came downstairs brandishing a Katana blade that he had hidden above a ceiling tile. "What's the situation?" Dwight asked as Hank slumped into his chair behind his desk that was beside the door, his hands bleeding. He pulled out a first aid kit he kept under the desk to tend to his wounds as Dwight leaned over, "Hank, you've been bit?" his voice panting and words rushed.

"No, Dwight I fell," the black security guard grumbled as he ripped open an ointment packet and spread it over his cuts that made him wince slightly in pain.

"No, no, you've been bit! You're gonna turn. It's only a matter of time," his hands began gripping the grip of the blade tightly, "Before you turn."

Calmly Hank paused in what he was doing and looked up at this man and said, "Dwight, I fell down and cut my hands on some rocks," then he continued his cleaning. Looking outside Dwight could see the two zombies devouring what was left of Sadiq in the parking lot, their backs to him as he pressed his face against the glass, hot breath fogging up the screen. In a few minutes Michael, still somewhat delirious, came downstairs and looked outside at the two zombies. Resting beside the body was Saqid's turban that the zombies ignored. Turning to Hank behind the desk the boss asked, "Hank, go out there and shoot them."

"I don't think so," slowly wrapping his right hand in some gauze and bandage tape.

"Why not?" Michael gasped as his eyes were still fixated on the feasting ghouls.

"I don't have a gun and even if I did I'm not going out there," Hank replied.

"Why don't you have a gun?" Michael suddenly jerked his head over to Hank, eyes hanging open in fear.

"The building wouldn't allow it. To have one they have to pay insurance in case I'd have to use it," Hank said.

"Cheap bastards," Michael scoffed turning around and going back upstairs. On his coat tails Dwight informed his boss, "Michael I got weapons. I got Katanas, shurikans, sai, short swords. You name it I got it." Pausing mid-way up the stairs Michael turned his face suddenly aglow.

"Well, that's good but do you have any guns?"

"No. It's easier to get a sword than a 1911. No paperwork," Dwight said shrugging his shoulders. "Besides. Killing zombies with a Katana is better than using a gun. You don't..."

Frustrated Michael went back to the office as some of his subordinates were trying to get ahold of anyone on the outside. Bob Vance of Vance Refrigeration and Phyllis' husband worked out of the warehouse downstairs came up to comfort his worried wife. Stanley, whom sat across from Phyllis, picked up his phone again but there was no dial tone now and Phyllis lost her internet connection around the same time. Pam, Oscar, Ryan, and Jim tried their cell phones. All lines were dead. They even tried the lines connecting the offices in the building and still got nothing. Erin told this to Michael as they returned, "Shit!" Michael screamed, then bolted into his office and locked the door.

"Is he alright?" Angela appeared around the edge of her cubicle with Oscar and Kevin in accounting with her. No one answered as there was a heavy "thud" noise on the other side of the door. There was a glass wall beside the door but it was shuttered and when Dwight knocked there was no answer. Thus, with Michael seemingly incapacitated Dwight assumed control although technically Jim was second in command yet he remained silent as he looked over at Pam whom was worried and trying to dial her mother on her cell phone again and again but never connecting. They had left their daughter with her because Helene wanted her new grand-daughter to spoil and hug.

Trying to usurp control over the situation Dwight stood before Erin's desk and raised his voice, "People, people, listen up. The front gate is open. Anyone can get in here including the zombies. We have to shut the gate and lock it. As property manager I will…appoint one of you to brave the charge and close the gate." and they immediately showed their unwillingness to volunteer for a suicide mission to cross the parking lot. Hank was still behind the desk, hands wrapped up but still bleeding. After trying the phone a couple of times and giving up he looked at the security monitors that showed the entire perimeter of the lot and saw a figure come charging through the open gate. "Oh, shit" he muttered picking up his baton as the figure seemed to be charging right for the front door. When he got to the door that figure was now walking towards him instead; a man in uniform holding a machete and behind him the zombies lay on the pavement; heads cleaved open. The figure came up and calmly knocked on the glass.

"What are we supposed to do?" Oscar asked as his office workers began to get up from their desks and move towards Dwight.

"We can get shit faced," Creed said from his desk. He was the only one not scared or even worried for his feet where on his desk and he reclined in his chair. Laid back compared to Kevin when sensing the desperation rushed into the vending machine room and took a chair to one of them to gather up the goodies. Kelly Kapoor that worked in the back offices with Toby came running in and hugged Ryan tightly, "Ryan, Ryan, this will be our last night on Earth. Let's make love."

"Well, okay" Ryan gave in and the two disappeared into one of the bathrooms as Toby of human resources came out to join the others oblivious to what was transpiring. "Hey, guys, is anyone having internet and phone problems?" His voice was mellow not excited, "I was online and it just went dead." His hands were in his pockets as the others were rapidly punching numbers on phones and ignored him. Meredith, whom sat across from Creed, took the opportunity and took a heavy swig from a bottle of whiskey in her drawer and Creed smiled and asked, "Can I have some of that?"

There was banter back and forth from the office mates. Jim was trying assure his love that their baby Cecelia was just fine with Helene as the former could not get ahold of her mother. Angela could not reach her home and her cats, and Oscar could not reach his parents and were going to give up when a strange voice interrupted their thoughts.

"Hello," a figure walked in covered head to toe in military uniform in what could be described as green with black stripes, a heavy, bulging backpack on his shoulders and in his hand was a rifle and that soiled machete in the other. His voice was casual though somewhat fatigued perhaps from being on the run but when he spoke the other paused in what they were doing and looked up. Shrugging off his rucksack on the small couch beside Erin's semi-circle desk and sheathing his machete behind his back the man looked around at the office space and all those present were apprehensive to see someone with a firearm in his hands, a total stranger, and there were zombies outside.

"Who are you?" Erin was the first to ask as her back was pressed against the cubicle wall that was behind her desk separating her space from Angela's.

"I'm Charles," he removed his bucket hat from his head and ran his hand over his crew-cut dark hair, "I saw your light on and decided to pay a visit." He was rather casual about the fact he just tip toed through a mine field of sorts. "Who are you guys?"

The first to introduce himself was Dwight, his left hand holding his blade he approached the man in uniform and offered his hand to shake, "I'm Dwight Shrute property-manager of this office park."

"So, you're in charge?"

"Well, I..."

Jim looked around Dwight whilst still seated in his chair, "Actually, Michael's our boss but he's kinda out of it," pointing with his thumb at the nearby closed door.

"Is he alright?" Charles enquired, "He's not sick is he?"

"Oh, no, no," Jim smiled, "He likes to take naps during the end of the world."

There was a pause in conversation until Erin spoke out, "So, wait, you were out there?" directing her question to the newly arrived Charles.

"Yes."

"Is it bad?" Pam was next to asking. Her face pale white and hands trembling as she clutched her useless cell phone.

He paused for a moment and looked at Pam. He wanted to say something to calm her but he could not lie. These people deserved the truth, "It's bad, folks. Very bad." Gasps and muttering flooded the room but Charles was heard over them, "I was out there and police and sheriffs were pulling out of town. Zombies are in the streets, in homes, alley ways, a few are even inside vehicles like sardines."

Jim asked a question, "Why did you come here then?"

"I was on my way out of town after hearing news reports of vicious attacks on my neighbors. But a couple of blocks from here some idiot T-boned my vehicle so I had to hot foot it to some place safe and this looks like a good spot."

"How did you get past the zombies in the parking lot?" Jim continued.

"I took care of them. Closed and locked the gate. Your security guard downstairs looks pretty bad, though."

"Yeah, I think he's been bit" Dwight said loudly, still clutching his katana but Charles did not believe so.

"Those wounds on his hands are not bite marks but they do go deep. Does anyone here have a sewing kit to close the wounds?" Charles asked and Erin rummaged through her bag and pulled out a small plastic case with thread and needles. "Good, do you think you can sew the wounds shut?"

"I've…I've never done something like that before. I'm squeamish around blood," she began biting her lower lip.

"I can do it" Dwight immediately jumped up.

Holding up a hand, "No, I prefer someone that would be more focused on sewing than taking the guy's head off," flicking a look at the thick glasses of the tie wearing dork then back at Erin whom was now trembling in apprehension. "Can you do it?" he asked again.

She nodded, "Sure. I'll give it a shot." Taking it up she went downstairs.

Looking at those that remained Charles said, "Looks like we're not going anywhere for a while. Might as well begin fortifying. All we have to right now is move everything upstairs, jam the elevator, and block the stair wells."

Dwight smiled, already liking this man because of his knowledge and organization, "Yes, yes, and fill up every container with water. This place will be our head-quarters!"

Nodding Charles continued, "There's no telling how much longer we'll have water or power so we best use them while we can. Every clean container needs to be filled as well as all the food you guys have and every weapon."

The office workers muttered to one another and some began to comply when Michael's door opened and the haggard looking boss took a few steps outside and saw all eyes focused on him. As the boss he was the leader in times of a crisis. They weathered budget cuts, layoffs, and business losses but when he came out they, for some reason, looked at him for guidance. Taking a deep breath to relax he yelled, "We are so doomed! We're dead!" his voice strained as he let it out then then clapped his hands once, "That's it. We're finished. Game over, man. Game over!" Looking over at this man, this suppose leader, Charles shook his head slightly and started towards the back. When he was leaving Dwight held up his hand and proclaimed loudly, "This is a zombie apocalypse, folks. We're under siege. This will be our home or our grave."

"Yipee," Jim threw down his pencil onto his desk.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters to The Office. They are owned by NBC.

It was just before noon at Dunder-Mifflin and the office park was under siege by the undead of Scranton, Pennsylvania. No one knew how they began to rise, but they knew that _they_ were outside and the office workers were stuck inside the place they had worked in for years and many did not want to die here. This new arrival, Charles, was proving to be a vital link for survival. After rallying all of the office workers from the other departments together and calmly directing workers to prepare for a long stay he also confessed to them what he did know what was going on in the outside world. "I watched the news this morning, before I lost my connection that police were chasing after a homeless man in the streets that was biting and clawing random people in the streets. They cornered him in a cul-de-sac and they had to shoot him. His victims were taken to the hospital and began suffering from immediate flu like symptoms; high fever, body chills and aches, and vomiting."

"All those from bites?" Kelly said, stunned.

Standing near her. Dwight; still holding his short sword turned and inched a little closer, "Yeah, that's how zombies multiply. A bite or a simple scratch is enough to contaminate your blood and turn you into one of them and there is no cure." His words were harsh and dripping with acid and it scared the customer service worker that clung to the cuff of Ryan's jacket, much to his chagrin.

Unlike her; Stanley was sitting in his desk having given up trying to use the phone he went into the kitchen and poured himself a cup of coffee, sat down behind his desk, calmly drank it until it was all gone and took a moment to reflect at the picture of his daughter and his family on his desk. Smiling and realizing that he may not make it out of here. Michael had retreated back to his office and locked himself inside effectively turning over command of the office to Jim Halpert, though the salesman was reluctant to take up this responsibility and referred everything to Dwight, whom, in turn, was following Charles.

In one of the filing cabinets Dwight pulled out from a thick file his ideas for zombie survival, right next to another file; A. Knife. He also fished from one of his drawers a small battery radio that he placed on his desktop after brushing away all of his desktop clutter onto Pam's, and Jim's desks. Catching a picture of Pam's mother from falling onto the floor Charles listened as the German explained all the schemantics of the office park and added that there were twenty-nine people inside including Hank of security and Charles himself which surprised those listening that he could count those he did not even see like Vance Refrigeration. Dwight then extended the antenna of the radio to its fullest extent, turned it on, and slowly moved the dial along the frequencies until a robotic voice was heard through the speakers:

"_This is the Emergency Alert System. The President has issued a state of emergency in the states of Pennsylvania, New York, and New Jersey. He has ordered all off duty National Guard and reserve personnel as well as all off duty law enforcement to report to their duty stations immediately for assignment. Center of Disease Control has stated that this epidemic is highly contagious. People infected will experience flu like symptoms; chills, body aches, and high fever. If people you know are experiencing such symptoms they should be quarantined immediately and notify the CDC or your local law enforcement."_

No one knew what to make of it. With all the water containers full and Angela now appointed to gather all the food they were looking to Charles for the next course of action. The next step was to have the interior and exterior of the building secured. There was only one gate in and out and that was locked, but there were many garage and fire exits. Bob Vance said that he took one of his delivery trucks and blocked the gate entrance with it as an added benefit. Kudos went to Bob Vance for seeking the initiative. There was little in the way of adequate weapons except for what Dwight had stowed away, yet none were willing to brandish a sword or a sai preferring to have instead raw firepower. Charles had a lot more in his disabled vehicle that was not too far away. Nodding lightly the soldier asked, "Do you have a tow truck or anything that can bring in a disabled truck?"

"I have one," Bob Vance said rather optimistic, "I have a Yukon that can tow anything. Where's it at?"

As they talked Erin was still listening to the radio, the announcement seemed to be a computer with a monotone voice showing no excitement or remorse given the situation and repeated it every thirty seconds. She was puzzled as to why the government was acting this way. There were zombies in the street and they were acting like this was some sort of mass flu. Nearby Pam tried one more time to call her mother on her cell and when that failed she threw her phone at the wall and broke down in tears. It was just the beginning of this siege and already people were breaking down, except Creed, whom was the only person smiling thanks in part to his Cannabis Indica stash. After listening to the radio for a little while longer and seeing no change Erin looked up and asked Charles, "Why is the government acting like this? Don't they see what's going on outside their windows?"

Rather calmly Charles looked at her and said, "The government is trying to avoid a mass panic. If they mention stuff such as "shoot on sight" or "if infected-kill immediately" the chaos that comes from it would cause more deaths than the zombies will. Also, if they mention "zombie" not many people will take it seriously."

"Why not?" Erin asked.

"Because a zombie has become a staple of 'Hollywood.' When they hear that there are shambling cannibals, something we have all seen on screen-and only on screen like vampires and werewolves.-we don't take it seriously. We have become so desensitized to the mythology of what a zombie is that people have lost all sense of what it is and pass it off as fiction. Which is easier to spread thanks to the internet."

Darryl came up with with one of his other workers, also named Michael, and they had some ideas. They had some delivery trucks that were fully gassed and ready to go to head out of town and everyone jumped at the chance but then there were also snags. Kelly did not want to leave her clothes behind and most of them had families in town and they could not leave them behind as well. Darryl said they had four trucks ready but Scranton had over 70,000 people and trying to go from house to house with a city of infected was suicide. Charles asked if there was any way they could modify them such as attaching a plow that would push the undead and any obstacles out of their way, but Darryl did not have the tools, but there was an industrial park next door that did. An idea immediately chimed in their heads, get in Bob Vance's Yukon and a delivery truck, go out and retrieve the truck and on the way back stop over at the neighbors and pick up the equipment and hopefully they will find other survivors. Darryl and Bob Vance were willing to go out with Charles and as they went over the plan Hank came into the office with a rather grim look on his grizzled face.

Downstairs, at the security desk, Hank showed them a monitor as the camera panned over the fence into the park next door, where they were intent on stopping and showed people there getting into a large fight. Because the camera was not digital, black and white, and rather old it did not give a good picture of what was going on. "Should we go check it out? Hank asked.

"Hang on, I'll check it out." Disappearing by going upstairs for half an ten minutes Charles came back with a rather grim look, "Scratch that idea."

"Why?" Hank looked up perplexed.

Pointing at the screen as the fight is still raging, "Those are all zombies and they're fighting over a piece of meat."

Upstairs Dwight was carefully skimming through his pad of papers for zombies survival, mumbling to himself and when a delightful idea came into his mind he let out a chuckle. The office workers were now beginning to go back to their desks wondering what to do. Ryan was still trying his cell phone, Pam flicked off the blue prints from her desk and she placed her mother's picture beside her computer and tried to fight back tears as Phyllis sat back down in front of Stanley whom had turned off his computer and was rather quiet and had a slight smirk on his lips.

"Stanley," Phyllis blurted out surprised, "You're smiling!"

His smirk disappeared, "No. I'm not." Growling loudly.

Angela walked by Creed and Meredith to get back to her desk when she inhaled some of the smoke hovering over the two. "What's that smell?" pausing and glaring at the old man.

"Heaven, baby" Creed said.

Oscar had tried to use the television in the conference room to no avail. He then tried his computer, gained a sliver of a connect but was blocked. He had a connection but he could not access sites and was dumbfounded as to why and nearly threw his keyboard in frustration.

"It's the Kill Switch" Charles said as he came back to the office.

Turning in his seat toward Charles and leaning back to see the soldier standing near Erin's desk he asked, "What do you mean?"

"The President can block internet sites in times of an emergency."

"He can't do that" Oscar jumped up from his seat, "It's illegal. That's censorship."

"Well, they're doing it. From what I understand it's not the entire internet but a lot of sites," Charles said as he placed his radio inside a leg cargo pocket and placed his rifle on Erin's curved desk.

"Why would they do that? People need the internet. We use it to get…news…and information…" Oscar began to say but the soldier cut him off.

"Let me ask you; do you trust everything you hear off the internet?" Charles asked and Oscar did not answer. "It was designed that in a time of crisis, such as this, to prevent people from posting false information that can lure people to harm or cause more chaos. Granted that this censorship will be a pain, but…"

"This is God's vengeance against homosexuals…" Angela's voice was heard right in front of Oscar and all heads in the office pivoted towards that direction and Oscar heaved a heavy sigh of frustration and gently rubbed his forehead. "Not this crap again…" mumbling under his breath.

"What was that?" Charles asked.

"Oh, Angela is one of those holier than thou Christians that think gays are what are troubling the world," Oscar replied grudgingly.

Realizing what he was getting into; a rather delicate group of people Charles slightly shook his head and decided not to pursue the matter. He checked up his equipment and departed leaving the two feuding accountants to stand near their desks and take quick glances at one another before turning and departing in opposite directions.

Creed and Meredith did not care, both were sitting in their chairs not too far away, Creed lightly puffing a joint, letting the smoke out slowly-savoring the flavor as the redhead was sprawled out on her desk a half filled whiskey bottle clutched tightly in her hand.

Dwight's radio continued,_ "The Center for Disease Control is asking for everyone to remain in their homes. Stay off the phone lines and do not attempt to reach loved ones or leave the city. The President is now enforcing Martial Law in the following states to allow Law Enforcement and military personnel to contain this outbreak…."_

Sitting erect in her seat in a jerk Pam looked at the radio then at Jim, "Martial Law? What does that mean?"

Charles answered as he sat behind in on the couch rummaging through his rucksack, "It means all forms of civilian organizations; police, medical, and all that are going to run by the federal government."

"Does the President have the right to do that? I mean, he can't do things like this, like, shoot us?" Kelly Kapoor asked, "I saw it in all those movies like in 'The Siege' with Denzel Washington. Which, by the way, he was so cute in…"

Turning away from her Charles asked the others, "Do you want the technical terms or the compact version?"

"Compact" Jim said bluntly.

"Yes, he can. It means the shit has hit the fan and landed on us," his voice picked up so that everyone in the office could hear him. "I know what you are thinking that the government is taking over, but right now we can't focus on that because no amount of bickering about laws and politics is going to help us here. What only matters now is our own survival. There is no telling how long we are going to be here. Maybe a few hours, days, or even weeks. I don't know, but I'm going to get the equipment in my vehicle. I'll be back in a few minutes." Looking around at all the faces Charles was about to say something else when Michael opened his office door and slowly walked out.

Erin was the first to ask, "Michael, are you okay?"

"We gotta get out here," he said bluntly, "We gotta turn Darryl's van into a bulldozer and blaze a trail out of town."

"And then what?" Charles asked. Michael turned around to look at him and for a moment the manager did not remember the tiger stripped man. "Where can we go?"

"Anywhere is better than here," Michael replied

The radio squawked once more, _"The President has advised people to remain inside for their own safety. Do not attempt to leave the city…." _As they listened Hank came upstairs, "You have to see this."

People went downstairs and gathered around his security monitors to show the outside world and that "fight" had progressed to the streets and their numbers multiplied to perhaps a couple hundred all around the office park.

"Holy…." Angela said crossing herself. Zombies were fighting, tugging on pieces of meat, gnawing on bone, chasing a dog. Making a bulldozer sounded appealing when Michael turned to Charles and asked, "How many guns do you have?"

"I have one "gun," patting his 1911 in the black holster at his side, "But I also have my M-16 _rifle_ here and a shotgun with my rucksack."

Michael became flustered, "Wait, wait, that's it? Why don't you have more? You soldier guys are supposed to have arsenals in your basements."

"I travel light. Still, if I had enough to go around I wouldn't give you one," Charles replied.

"Why not?"

"You're the kind of guy that would look down the barrel to see if the bullet was stuck. Still though, I have more firepower in my vehicle and trailer including equipment to make a good safe house."

Erin looked over and asked, "Really? Like what?"

"A recycling generator, seeds and tools for a small farm, ammunition, water purification and sanitation equipment," Charles said. "We have a good advantage to begin with. We blocked the exits on the first floor, lots of water, a perimeter fence and functioning vehicles what we need is my equipment. We get that we're golden, and then we can start working on the vehicles."

Nodding his head Oscar said, "I'm still saying that we blaze a path out of town," and others concurred.

Nodding lightly, "In order to do that we'll need the right tools and I was told the park next door has them," Charles pointed in the direction of the neighbors and they knew what that meant, they would have to go out there. Bob Vance and Darryl were waiting for him and when those three departed people began to whisper to each other.

"I don't trust him," Angela said to everyone.

"Why not?" Erin asked.

"He could be a militiaman for all we know. How do we know that _he _and his group are not responsible for this?"

Oscar, hands in his pockets, became angry, "Awhile ago you said that it was because of homosexuals…"

Angela cut him off, "No I didn't."


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters to The Office. They are owned by NBC. I own the character of Charles.

It was just after 1 o'clock in the afternoon as people in the relative safety of the second floor conference room of Dunder-Mifflin watched as three people left the office park in Bob Vance's Yukon in search of Charles' disabled truck that he promised had enough equipment and supplies to maintain them for a siege and with them went the hopes of those left behind. On their return back they would stop at the park next door to obtain the welding equipment that would help convert the delivery trucks to bulldozers. Just before their sortie they saw what lay before them; hundreds of shambling cannibals wandering the streets almost shoulder to shoulder in some spots. Both Bob Vance and Darryl knew that it was suicide to leave the office park. The tiniest of bites and it was over, but they weighed this with the need of the equipment and decided to follow Charles. Before they left Bob Vance hugged his wife Phyllis and gave her a parting kiss, "I'll be back" he assured her with a wide smile as Darryl retrieved from his small office upstairs a picture of his daughter; Jada. Climbing onboard Bob Vance's Yukon they eased towards the front gate as Hank removed the lock and opened the gate just quickly enough for the Yukon before quickly shutting it before the zombies came in.

Those that watched them off were stumped as to what they could do next even as in the parking lot below them lay three rotting bodies from their first contact that were stiff in the cold air. It had been just a few hours since Michael came in with the shocking news and he was still inside his office refusing to come out. All forms of electronic communication were now offline however the electricity itself was still functioning for they still had light and heat. Feeling that he was left in charge of the office with the absence of Michael-Dwight disappeared himself to one of the closets and returned with a small duffle bag bulging with tools he had hidden for just such emergencies. As he went to the elevator he was accosted by Angela whom demanded to know, "What are you doing?"

"I'm going to the roof," he said, his voice straight forward almost mechanical as he tucked the bag under one arm and the opposite hand held his short sword.

"What for?" Angela asked.

"I'm going to signal a helicopter," Dwight said. They looked at each for a moment, Dwight had confidence, knowledge, and will-power and that showed and Angela cracked a smile when there came a high pitched squealing noise that sounded like tires on asphalt and people rushed back to the conference room window hoping to see that Bob Vance and the others had returned early and alive. Hank was still behind the desk downstairs with a warehouse workers named Michael and Madge as they were looking over the security monitors believing that they could rewire them to be displayed inside the warehouse thus he would not be so vulnerable at his post all alone when they heard the same noise.

"What the hell…" Hank said as he looked at the screen that projected towards the gate and another that looked over the tall fence into the rail yard across the street. A white sedan was turning about sharply in the yard, its nose pointing right towards the gate.

"Oh no, no, no," Hank began slowly rising up from his seat.

"No, no, no, no," Dwight said as his large face was pressed against the cold glass of the window seeing the exact same image. The sedan lurched forward running pell-mell towards the gate. A zombie in its way was knocked to the side, destroying a head light. Undeterred the car slammed into the gate at perhaps thirty miles per hour, enough to snap the lock, fling the door open, and creating the necessary gap for the investigating zombies to come in. Despite gaining entry the sedan did not stop and kept going right towards the front door as the three gathered at the security point ran down the hall to get away.

Dwight was yelling as he ran out of the office down a corridor to the warehouse, "No, no!" unsheathing his sword. There was the crash of glass and the crunch of metal as the car broke through the front door and became lodged in front of the elevator. When the vehicle came to a halt in front of Hank's desk the driver side door flung open and a figure popped and clambered over the warped hood for the elevator, but the doors were bent by the impact. He turned to the stairwell and it was locked tight. Hank approached the person, it was a tall, thin, white man frantically shaking the handle for the stairwell door his voice breaking as he screamed, "Come on! Come on! Open! God damn it!"

"Hey!" Hank called out.

The man turned about bewildered and charged towards hank whose hands were still bandaged. It wasn't a zombie but Hank tried to get his hands on this guy but he pushed the security guard aside and disappeared down the hall. "We'll get him" Madge said, but Hank stopped them when they heard the chorus of the undead becoming louder with each second. Looking through the window beside the imbedded car Hank saw the zombies in their approach right towards him. Turning about Hank told the others to get to the warehouse and lock the doors.

Their voices now joined the zombies pressed their bodies through the twisted metal frame and stepped over the crushed glass of the front door in search of their food. Hank and the others retreated to the warehouse via a first floor door and immediately locked and moved several boxes full of printing paper behind it. Other workers gathered around seeing their pale expressions, "Someone broke in and the zombies are with them," Michael panted. "Get the forklift and move a pallet over here!"

"Let me at them," Dwight said holding the wooden handle of his sword tightly, the blade reahing for the ceiling just inches from his head.

"Are you crazy?" Hank said, hands at his side, head slightly tilted to one side utterly perplexed at this dilemma. As they talked there came a loud crash, zombies were now banging against the metal door, their fingers clawing at the cold, smooth, face. It was a tone just lower than nails on a chalk board but it was persistent as several took it up. The survivors stepped back worried that the door might not hold even Dwight did as well to which Hank nudged his shoulder, "You want them; there you go."

Possessing only melee weapons the group was armed but no one was willing to go out and fight the horde and with seemingly no alternative the office workers began to breakdown seeing the zombies filter inside the building. Meredith quickly downed the last of her drink and took Creed to the bathroom as Jim said, "We gotta do something." Turning away from the window he went to his desk with Pam right behind him questioning as to what exactly. Jim did not know, perhaps make a run to their car and run away. This was a nightmare. His daughter and mother-in-law were missing and now the source of all their worries, the undead, had infiltrated inside the lot and was also inside the building because of the actions of some maniac. Though they had sealed the doors denying them access to the warehouse and to the upper floors so they were relatively face however their moans and constant pounding on the doors were ringing in their ears. The warehouse workers took up whatever they could find; a fire ax, clubs, and knives as Hank said, "Okay, everyone!" his voice booming, "Stairs!" pointing to the stairs that led to the second floor, "Let's go. Get up there!" Immediately the dock workers began moving, but Dwight paused for a second looking at the barricaded door and the incessant pounding and he felt his hands turning cold and weak. He was afraid.

Upstairs Regional Manager Michael Scott came out of his cave hearing the moans. "What is it? What's going on?"

"Some idiot drove his car into the building," Angela said as she retreated to her cubicle and was retrieving some of her personal items, "And now zombies are inside the building! Michael, what are we going to do?"

Looking at the faces of his cohorts the manager flicked his eyes at Erin behind her desk, "You deal with it," and ran back inside his office. Erin stood there with a pale white face nervously clutching a stapler.

"Shit, they're inside," Darryl said as they pulled up to the front gate. Their trip was quicker than expected and they saw figures marching into the office park unawares of their presence.

Most were heading into the building however a few had gathered around to munch on Sadiq's body. All of them were lined up in front of him Bob Vance gunned the engine and the Yukon had enough horse power to spare rolling right over them; their bones crunching under the large, heavy tires. Advancing all the way up to the front doors before pulling back Bob Vance maneuvered his vehicle backwards to clear the way as Darryl jumped out of the cab and hurriedly closed the gate. Finding the lock broken he closed it nevertheless and Bob Vance maneuvered his vehicle beside the gate to prevent it from being opened.

"Okay, let's get 'em," Bob Vance said stepping from the passenger side door all three men brandishing their weapons. Darryl had a AR-15 and Charles his AK as Bob Vance stuffed two pistols into his front belt and lofted a steel hatchet in his hand. Advancing at a jog they stepped over the crushed, mutilated bodies of the undead as Darryl and Charles took the lead with Bob Vance behind finishing off those his comrades had already brought down. The zombies outside the building were now turning about but just as they did they were cut down by well aimed shots and stepped over them and Bob Vance planted the blade of his hatchet into their frontal lobe. In just a minute they had brought down all those outside and were now pushing themselves inside the smashed front door.

Upstairs they heard repeated rifle shots progressing below them. Phyllis was back at the window; recognized Bob Vance's Yukon and became overjoyed telling everyone that, "Bob is here. We're safe."

It was a terrible fight. Zombies were so jam packed inside the corridors in their search for their food that they could not turn about as rifle fire began to cut them down. Darryl and Charles took their time in firing slowly and accurately knowing that only a headshot was the only way to destroy their foe. Power was still on and the overhead florescent lights showed them the way making their work somewhat easier. When one paused to reload the second would step up to fire. Blood was pumping hard, they could hear their heart beats in their ears and the adrenalin from the excitement of firing was affecting their brains telling them to keep going, pour shots into the zombies even when they had fallen. It was impossible to miss and impossible to see the floor because of so many bodies but despite everything the two riflemen kept their cool. One zombie staggered when another zombie that had been shot fell against it and Darryl kicked him in the back forcing him to the floor where Bob Vance placed the hot muzzle of one of his pistols to his forehead and fire the bullet becoming imbedded in the floor underneath a good inch down. He wanted to fire the pistols so badly that he decided to forgo the bloody hatchet and the first discharge was made his ears ring.

Having climbed the stairs to the second floor walkway they jumped when two shots pieced the wall around the barricaded door then the moaning ceased. No one moved as there was silence then two cracks and they jumped.

There came a knock on the door to the chime of "Shave and a haircut" and they breathed a sigh of relief. "It's okay, folks. Zombies are too stupid to know how to knock," said Dwight as he went back down the stairs. The dock workers followed and began to remove the barricade. Opening the door five bodies were stacked on top of each other, a small pool of black syrup was gathered beneath their corpses that had leaked from their foreheads.

"What the hell happened, man?" Darryl asked Hank as he stepped over the bodies into his work place. "How did they get inside?"

"Some idiot rammed the gate. Didn't you see the car in the lobby?" the security guard said, "Did you find him?"

"Naw. What did he look like?"

"White guy with very curly hair, thin, and wearing street clothes. I swear I've seen him before," Hank said with his finger and thumbs rubbing together trying to think as Charles stepped in reloading his magazine. Before him Bob Vance kicked one of the bodies believing he saw a foot twitch then fired into his head for good measure. Removing small foam cones from their ears to lessen the noise Charles asked the workers, "We need a heavy duty chain and padlock to reseal the gate. Do you have one?" Madge nodded and went to Darryl's office and came back with both items. "We'll do this, you guys find whoever smashed the gate." then gave Dwight his 1911 before hustling back into the corridor taking Bob Vance and Darryl in tow.

Their journey down the hall was a nightmare. The air reeked of the acid smoke from burnt powder and the aroma of decaying flesh, the chill of the outside filtering through as Dwight stepped over the bodies. Behind him Madge and Michael were trying not to step on the bodies out of respect and felt the hot spent brass casings. There was a gurgling noise from one of them and yet despite having a fire ax Madge could not force herself to use the heavy wedge into a body even thought it was already officially dead and not knowing that man she didn't have the will to do it. Michael decided to do it himself with a crowbar.

A cry was heard; Dwight snapped his fingers and pressed his back against the wall. There was a small office room up ahead and he surmised that was where it was coming from. Reaching out and gently touching the cold metal handle it did not budge meaning it was locked and Dwight was prepared to kick it down. Stepping in front of the thick wood door, both hands holding the borrowed pistol tightly Dwight prepared to deliver a kick yet he hesitated.

"Just kick the damn door," Madge huffed. Taking a deep breath to shake it off Dwight took a few steps back and threw his shoulder into it but the door held fast then Madge slammed her heavy foot into it near the hinges and down it went with a piercing crack. They found the person cowering in a corner, unarmed, clothes soaked in sweat and dirt. Instantly Dwight recognized who it was, "I'm placing you under citizen's arrest…." Dwight began, "for endangering the wellbeing of…"

"Screw it" Madge hoisted the boy up by his collar and dragged him back to the warehouse whilst outside Darryl wrapped the heavy chain several times around a metal slat of the gate and the rest around the corner post before clamping the padlock on the two ends of the chain. Giving it a little tug the gate did not budge and Darryl flipped off those zombies still outside as Bob Vance moved his Yukon towards the warehouse loading dock. Charles walked with him past the many bodies when the foreman was struck by an idea. Up ahead was one of his delivery trucks that was disabled because of bad spark plugs. "How about we move that truck to block the gate? You know, for insurance."

Opening up the loading door warehouse worker Michael coaxed Bob Vance into backing up the large trailer until the tailgate touched the rubber padding at the edge of the building. At the same time Madge was standing guard over the little trouble maker as Hank called down the office workers. Coming down the stairs into the center of the massive room the first words to be uttered by them were, "I don't believe it. Luke?" Pam yelled as she looked down at the guy. Luke was a former intern that was utterly despised by everyone. His incompetence and bad attitude led to Michael spanking him in full view of his coworkers. Embarrassed he quit and Michael, his uncle, was forced to attend anger management, however Pam, full of rage, pushed those in front aside and began hitting Luke in the head with a balled fist. "You lousy, son of a…." she yelled, tears streaming down her cheeks. Jim held her shoulders and pulled Pam away not fast enough for her foot to find his stomach.

Jim took Pam to a corner to cool off as Charles climbed inside the building and began to unlock the trailer. The people were stumped as to what exactly lay inside yet optimistic that they would survive. Inserting a brass key into the lock, lifting the strong arm, and rolling the hatch up Charles stepped aside to show everyone what they risked their butts for.

"Damn, boy, where did you get all this stuff?" Darryl took a step back, eyes wide at a gun nuts Christmas morning. Lining the interior wall of the trailer was rack upon rack of Ak-47s, AR-15s, and more M1 Carbines and some other small arms that were wrapped up in tarps in the back and also containers with pistols galore. Green metal ammunition cans were stacked up five feet high and slapped on their faces were 100 mile an hour tape and printed in bold were the contents, mostly ammunition of various calibers including shotgun and there were also machetes, picks, shovels, and powerful flashlights.

Dwight felt the blood leave his body, his skin turned white, his heart raced at his greatest dream come true. He wanted to have such tools and guns but he was always denied this by various means and was stumped as to how this boy managed to procure such stuff. Near the back of the trailer were two recycling generators and a large metal cylinder beside them that was a homemade water filter.

Unloading it took a while, even with five people doing it. "Twelve gauge, ten gauge, .45 ACP, 9mm, 30-06," reading the labels aloud as Charles removed from the bed of his truck packaged food and plastic containers with potable water, iodine, and boxes of seeds. Taking the weapons down from the racks Darryl saw that the Ak-47s were used but still very well cared for and from Russia judging by the Cyrillic stamped on the metal. There were more firearms then there were people in the building, they counted as Charles stacked them by category.

Dwight asked, "How did you get these guns? Did you steal them? Did you smuggle them from Russia or buy them from a smuggler?" hovering over Charles like an eager puppy though the soldier refused to answer his questions and instead said, "Time to issue weapons. Usually I am picky about who gets my weapons but…." Trailing off he just waved them over to come get it and went about his work. Reluctantly the survivors gathered around the firearms then Bob Vance picked up a Mossberg shotgun, marveling that it was clean, oiled, looked brand new then Dwight pushed his way through the crowd, "I'm next. Me!" and fished out an AK-47.

None of the weapons were loaded nor had magazines yet and as others began to comb though trying to find something suitable Charles said, "Does anyone here have any weapons training?" Dwight was the first to raise his hand, and a few others including Darryl, Michael, and Bob Vance. It was not good because it would take a while to train these civilians not only how to care for the weapons but use them.

The warehouse workers unloaded everything and there was equipment that baffled everyone. Boxes of signal flares, mirrors, and what looked like small plastic flashlights. Picking one up Kevin pressed the rubber button on the bottom of its plastic orange base and dropped it when there was a bright flash of light. It was a strobe. "Wow, that was intense," the heavy accountant said as his eyes adjusted then he picked it back up and tried it again. A dozen truck batteries were also onboard that were enquired about. "We can jerry rig the generators to charge the batteries that way we can use them at night. There's no telling how much longer we'll have power. It won't be enough to run the entire building but it will be run everything that counts," said Charles opening one of the ammunition cans to top off his magazines.

Jim looked at the generators; they looked like the covered gears of a bicycle with bent handles on each side. The green metal cover was chipped and worn but it was still serviceable, "GN-58 hand crank generators. I got them from a dealer for two hundred dollars. They work but we'll need someone to turn the cranks to charge the batteries. It ain't easy but it will tone your muscles," Charles said. Angela immediately volunteered Kevin. Jim nodded along pretending he understood what was being said.

In the bed of the truck was more preserved food, twenty-five pound sacks of rice, dried fruit, and large cans of tuna fish, vegetable and olive oil, and cardboard boxes of MREs; Meals Ready to Eat. With all these mouths to feed this amount of food would not last long, perhaps two weeks at most Charles calculated in his head.

"I'm starving," Kevin said, his fat jowls shaking as he talked. Much to Angela's disgust Charles gave him two cans of Chef Boyardee and a plastic spoon. In Bob Vance's Yukon was all the welding equipment making their raid was successful and now they had another chore; to clear the bodies. Luke's vehicle had to be yanked out as workers, clad in gloves, face masks, and goggles went through the halls picking up bodies and placing them outside the building as the forklift hefted a pallet where the bodies were laid upon. No one counted how many bodies there were, maybe fifty yet it did not matter as they were taken to a far corner of the lot and dumped. As they worked Jim and Pam went to a corner to talk privately. "I want Cecelia. I want her in my arms," Pam whimpered.

"I know," Jim said holding his wife tightly in his arms feeling warm, "Hopefully we can get out if we can convert the trucks." Nodding lightly Pam looked up at him with large watery eyes, "What if…what if they're not at her house?" To this Jim did not know. Where could they be if not there?

Nearby Oscar sat on some boxes of paper and was thinking himself, hands clasped together, fingers extended the tip touching his nose. Matt was one of the few workers from Dunder-Mifflin that had not shown up this day. Erin remembered that Andy and Gabe were among the missing and did not recall this until now and a fear rushed through her mind that she could not shake that she would see both of them amongst the undead.

Toby was the last person to join the rest. He had spent the last few hours sitting behind his crowded desk in the annex looking at the pictures of his daughter, Sasha. No longer having contact he was reflecting on whether or not he would see her again. Daryl came up to his office and pulled out a picture frame on his desk another picture of Jada when he saw the back of Toby's body, slumped in his chair, unmoving.

"You alright, man?" Darryl said his head sticking out from the kitchen door. Turning about slowly in his seat with jugs of water around him Toby, with sad eyes, looked up his hands holding a picture of Sasha.

"Yeah," the human resources man replied, "Guess my job doesn't mean much now anymore huh?"

"I don't think any of our jobs matter anymore," Darryl smiled. "Where is she at?"

"With her mother," Toby said rather disappointed that she was with her and not him, "They, uh, they went on a trip out of town." He thought about it for a second and he felt some relief that perhaps they escaped this outbreak as did Darryl. Everyone rallied in the warehouse after the bodies of the zombies were stacked eight feet high waiting to be disposed and looking at their watches it read just three in the afternoon.

It took a great amount of convincing from Erin to make Michael Scott to come out of his office and join the others downstairs. He was regional manager thus the boss of most of these people and he shook off the shock and tried to rein in the control and stood on a stack of boxes so that he was a few feet taller than his subjects, hands above his head, "People, people, we need to talk." Moans, groans, eyes slowly turned about to look at this man, a man who had done nothing more than announce the zombies presence then hid himself inside his office only to give a suggestion of converting trucks to plows that others were thinking.

"We…need…to pull together," he began then cleared his throat. "What caused this, I don't know. It could be biological warfare. I think the IT guy was going to bomb this place and let his germs spread throughout the city. Or maybe..." he looked around and pointed a finger at Charles, "Maybe that Charles is some sort of militiaman and this is their plan to take over. You know, how else could he get so much stuff? He's one of those militiamen that…." His voice became choked as Charles calmly refilled his magazines. The workers looked at him then back at Michael as his forehead was now covered in sweat, his hands trembled, and his words were becoming broken and rather incoherent.

At his side Dwight asked, "Michael, do you want me to take over? I have a full plan for a zombie apocalypse including how to fortify safe houses and escape plans."

Already fed up this nonsense the workers turned their backs to them then they heard a new voice, "People, come on back." Charles had nudged Michael aside.

"Times like this we need to know what we are doing before we do it. I'm in favor of driving out of here but we have to be prepared. Even if we get the trucks ready, where are we going to go?"

Some answered that they wanted to get friends and family.

He knew that they would say that, "It's already too dangerous just going down the street. We can't risk going around the entire town trying to locate everyone's friends and family. With communications down we cannot confirm that they are where we think they are."

"What do you suggest we do?" Oscar asked.

"What I propose is fortify this place, make it a proper safe house as we convert the trucks. These next few days will be "the shock." The fear, chaos, which results from news informing people about the outbreak, will be at its peak, there will be desperate people in the streets that will kill us to get out. We'll try to fix communication and perhaps get in touch with others then plan a route out of town, but until then we stay put." The people nodded and seemed to accept his plan but there were some hold outs.

Angela asked, "Why should we follow you? How do we know that you're not behind this? You're a militiaman. You're against the government." She stabbed at him with an extended finger yet the soldier maintained his cool denying this.

"I'm not militia. I'm a survivalist. I adapt myself to survive all kinds of hazards; blizzards and deserts to human armies and armies of the undead." He then stepped down from his pedestal and walked over to Angela who felt a cold chill move up her spine seeing this armed man approach who said nothing until toe to toe, "Do you have any ideas?" he asked. Angela didn't respond, just looked at him then shied away.

Temperatures outside was falling fast and everyone kept themselves inside. Electricity was still on which means heaters though no one was idle to savor it. Darryl put his staff to work in converting the warehouse into a home. Bob Vance brought in several pieces of plywood that they began constructing sub rooms. The warehouse was big enough to accommodate the entire ad hoc garrison with their supplies as Madge and dock worker Michael finally succeeded in rewiring Hank's monitors now being watched from what was Darryl's office for he was moved upstairs prior. Looking around with the cameras Hank saw they were surrounded by perhaps a hundred zombies that had homed in on the place by the weapon fire and grumbled in surprise as he looked at it.

Dwight climbed to the roof and took in the panoramic view of Scranton around him. A couple of helicopters were in the distance to the North, columns of black and brown smoke rose up into a still bright blue sky. Once above the buildings a breeze pushed them to the East where they dissipated and there were still faint rifle and pistol shots around him; hold outs, survivors too far away to help them; however Dwight did not care for them. In his mind it was survival of the fittest. He had prepared his whole life for the zombie apocalypse. Carefully studying his foe through movie and book he had laid out his defenses and offenses carefully in his head. His brother, Mose living outside of town on a forty acre beet farm was deemed a perfect place to have a safe house they did not collect firearms they had a seemingly limitless supply of food and water all they had to do was reach it and that would happen if they can convert the delivery trucks to the plows. Long ago he told Jim that there needed to be another plague because there were too many people in the world and now his dream came true. He did not care for those people trapped outside and many of those in the office where he worked, in his world it was survival of the fittest. Opening up his little bag of tricks he removed from it a road flare and a signaling mirror and started using its reflective surface to flash bright light in the direction of the wandering "birds." Using Morse Code to signal distress no amount of enticement could make a helicopter to come to him. After an hour he gave up and came back down.

At the same time Michael was racked by uncertainty about himself and what he could do. Sitting on the small couch next to Erin's desk he began to tremble, skin clammy and bleach white. He had never taken the thought of zombies seriously, in fact, he never thought of them at all. Dwight came back to the office with that punch to the stomach he needed, "Michael," Dwight said, "I tried to flag down a helicopter. Didn't work."

"What? What? You saw a helicopter? On the roof?" Michael began.

"Yeah, two actually. I tried using my signaling mirror but…" Michael felt his heart skip a beat and his stomach churned. Sick to his stomach he leaned forward, head held up by his hands. Erin fetched a trash can and rubbed his back.

"It's over…it's all over, Erin," his voice was low and defeated; "We're all going to die here. We're going to be eaten by zombies. I don't want to be the main course."

Dwight was still at his side and tried to reassure his boss, "Not to worry, Michael. I have plans for situations like this. Charles and his weapons are good but if we can get to my farm…"

Michael suddenly stood erect throwing up his hands, "No, uh-uh, I'm not going anywhere near your farm. I don't want to die eating beets." He went back into his office and closed the door.

"What's up with him?" Charles came back up to the office to fetch his rucksack.

Erin answered, "He's, uh, not prepared for stuff like this." Frowning as she was playing with the stapler in her hands. "Listen, uh, if you're not militia, like Angela said, then what are you? Some kind of Marine?"

"No," he said pulling the straps of his ruck sack over his shoulders, "I was a combat engineer in the Army. A corporal with the 1st Armored Division. Did two tours in Iraq," holding up two fingers.

Dwight was fueled and tested the man further, "Okay then. If you're so smart to be an NCO...an insurgent comes at you with a knife with a high end attack," he had in his right hand a sharpened pencil held high above his head, "What do you do?" just as he finished saying that he took a couple steps towards Charles who immediately defended himself with a boot to Dwight's groin hard and down he went into a fettle position.

There was still the matter of the rotten bodies stacked up outside. It seemed that during this lull that they were forgotten about and with the temperature rapidly dropping with the sun something had to be done. Taking from the bed of his truck a thick green plastic jerry can full of gasoline Charles approached the pile, unscrewed the cap, and began pouring the contents over the bodies. The fumes from the gas combined with the stench of death made a potent combination that made him hold his breath until he soaked them with half the can then stepped back. Perhaps fifty bodies were stacked up in front of him however their faces had made no recognition to him as he struck a small flare that was in his pocket and threw it onto the stack instantly igniting the bonfire. As the flames reached high into the sky the moans of the undead became louder, perhaps in mourning for those being cremated.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters to The Office. They are owned by NBC. I own the character of Charles.

Still trapped inside the office park commotion was still going on as people tried to make sense on how the dead could have risen especially so quickly. It happened as though it occurred over night and on a massive scale. Listening to the Emergency Alert System Pennsylvania, New York and New Jersey were being placed into a form of quarantine and New York City alone had over eight million people compared to the miniscule 70,000 of Scranton. There no way to know if all eight million, half that number, or just a fraction were infected there was no way for the people in Dunder Mifflin to know what was happening down the street from where they were.

Hank was watching the cameras as they panned through the parking lot. He was the bonfire in the corner still burning emitting thick black smoke and the dark pools of blood and brains in the parking lot of where they were cut down. Closing his eyes to catch a moments rest Creed wandered into Hank's new office, "Whatcha watchin'?" the old man asked, hands in his pockets being casual.

"Zombies outside the fence," Hank said leaning back in his seat and looking away from the glare of the monitors, his thumb and index fingers rubbing his eyes.

"Any trouble?"

"No, not yet, but there's a lot of them out there especially around the gate," Hank's voice was in a low gravel tone as his hands still pained him.

Creed looked for himself at the screens seeing the zombies shoulder to shoulder all around the fence and several ranks deep, "You know what this reminds me of? Woodstock," Creed said, "Just climb to the top of the fence, throw your fears to the wind and jump into the crowd and they'll carry you wherever you want." Creed's arms were up, reaching for the ceiling.

Hank just looked up at Creed with a blank expression, "Okay, man, I'm just going to get back to work," turning his head back to the monitors.

"Okay, take care, Ace," Creed smirked then left the room. Hank did not see him go but when he reached over for his candy bar it was missing.

Taking up weapons or taking up hammers the people of Dunder-Mifflin and Vance Refrigeration were at work making this building their safe house whilst outside zombies were trying to get in. Luke, Michael Scott's nephew, had used his car to blast through the gate and allowed the zombies in. The timely return of Bob Vance, Darryl, and Charles sealed the breach and all those that made in were slain and now burning in a pyre and now Luke was placed in a corner and was ignored mostly through the rest of the day though Pam made sure to send a heavy object his way. It was Luke that endangered their lives by allowing the zombies in and his uncle pleaded for his life and though Pam wanted to strangle the life out the pipsqueak she did not have the heart of a killer. A janitor's closet was cleaned out and Luke was put into there and Ryan began to taunt him through the door, "Sucks, don't it?"

All the weapon fire and the zombie moan chain effect echoed through the neighborhood and more and more kept arriving their fingers feeling up the fence or pushing against the gate but it held fast. Having read every book on zombies he could get his hands on Dwight knew that a chain link fence would not hold long against so many of them and told this to an already scared Michael Scott who broke down and ran into the bathroom and refused to come out. The never ending chorus of the undead forced everyone inside and shut all the doors and even that was not enough and people started using earplugs. Bringing in plywood to make small rooms began to be constructed to allow the survivors to have their own rooms however many of the office workers decided to sleep on around their desks opting for the better, vacant rooms upstairs. Jim was up there sitting behind his desk looking at the pictures he had arrayed around his computer monitor, him and his friends and of Pam holding Cecelia after her birth. "I've worked here for many years. I hate this job and there were only two reasons I stayed I needed the money and because of Pam and now I'm going to die here…with Pam," he sighed heavily and sank deeper into his chair. Looking over to Dwight's desk the man was absent and so was his radio. Dwight had climbed onto the roof to get a better signal and picked up the Emergency Alert System once again this time saying a different message than before:

"_The President has activated all the countries National Guard and Reserve Military. People are being told to stay inside their homes. Do not attempt to reach family or loved ones or try and leave your towns."_

Dwight scrolled the dial a little and picked up a man's voice. It must be a man with his own radio transmitter, _"People, this is it. The zombies have risen and are now in the streets killing everyone in their path. The government wanted to take our guns because they knew, they knew, that this was going to happen because they unleashed it."_

He continued to listen to the channels trying to gather all the information he could before heading back downstairs to find his boss. Michael Scott was beside himself in fear shaking while sitting on the toilet though not using it. He used this seclusion to reflect upon his life. As boss of Dunder Mifflin, a title he coveted was now redundant with the rise of the zombies for there was no more company and no more law except for survival.

The welding equipment was also offloaded however it was too cold outside now to do this today and doing it inside was dangerous with all the flammable materials. It will have to wait till tomorrow and until that time came the survivors would have to sleep. In his many bags of tricks Charles had a few sleeping bags buried underneath in the cab of his truck. These would prove useful for only Dwight had survival blankets and he was not willing to share with his cohorts.

"First thing is first," Charles said, "We have to get these batteries charged. "I need two people on these generators, hook them to the batteries and start cranking." Kevin was giggling at the words but after being volunteered by Angela to start turning. The generators were heavy and were placed on tables and Kevin sat in a chair and slowly began turning the handles. Oscar took connector cables from the generator and placed the opposite end on the first battery's prongs then placed the opposite end on the clamps on the prongs of the battery where some sparks shot out telling him that there was a current. Oscar smiled that it was working then he heard Kevin panting for breath then quit.

"I…can't…I can't do it," Kevin's forehead was already lathered in sweat and his body was slumped forward and despite his fellow accountant's prodding could not continue.

"Come on, Kevin," Oscar said, "You just started. It's not that difficult."

Slowly peeling himself out of the seat Kevin caught his breath, "If you don't think it's so difficult then you do it." Taking up the offer Oscar sat down, rolled up his sleeves, and began to slowly turn the handles. Admittedly it was difficult at first but gradually he began to overcome the difficulty, "I have a new way to build up my biceps."

Charles also instructed, "We have to keep a low profile, try not to draw attention here from the zombies and desperate people out there."

Angela was against this, "Wait, if they're people out there we have to help them," she said arms crossed in front of her stomach. The bright blonde, petite accountant said her voice stern and resentful that her idea was shot down so easily and by a stranger.

"Hey, if you want to go out there and find them then be my guest but all those zombies are going to be after you the whole way," the soldier said.

In the office Pam was sitting down on the love seat and was joined by Jim, "I'm scared, Jim. I'm really scared," Pam said, "I don't want to die here."

"I don't want to either, but we'll make it," Jim said. Nodding Pam rested her head on Jim's shoulder and closed her eyes.

It was nearing dark, the temperature was falling fast and though the electricity was still flowing the generators were still being turned to charge the batteries by Oscar and by Bob Vance as Erin and Kelly looked into what food was on hand. What food that Charles brought was either dried, canned, or MREs, and he wanted to hold off the latter two until they hit the road for they contained water and would be better for them than the dried stuff. Large plastic containers held boxes of powdered soup, dried vegetables, meat, and fruits all of which did not suit their palate. "God, what kind of person would eat food like this? There's nothing good here. We something with more pizzazz and with….flavor," Kelly said in frustration holding one of the boxes of powdered soup all appeared to be generic. Erin merely shrugged, "We should make the best of it." Taking the food up to the kitchen they found a large pot and began mixing ingredients together to make a mean soup.

As they stirred the pot Kelly rolled up her sleeves and was bickering the whole time, "You what? Ryan hasn't done a damn thing through this entire thing, you know? He just stood there in the corner and made fun of Luke. What kind of guy does that? I mean, belittles a helpless kid…" Beside her Erin was nodding her head but was actually zoning her out. Charles walked through the kitchen and went into the bathroom and Kelly watched him the whole way and when the door closed she turned to Erin, "Oh my God he's so cute. Guys in uniform are so sexy. I wish that Ryan would be in uniform like a Marine. They have the hottest uniforms."

As the hours slowly crawled by the amount of zombies around the compound began bleeding away till only a couple were left. By that time the bonfire had consumed all the flammable material and was just spewing some faint smoke and the pungent stench hung in the cold, still air. This is the way that was wanted. All windows were covered with blackout curtains and all doors leading outside were locked and barricaded and with the outer perimeter keeping the zombies out the survivors began to relax for their first night of siege. Darryl and his co-worker Michael, not Michael Scott, had just put up several plywood rooms that were large enough for a person to lie down and have privacy.

"What are we supposed to do tonight?" Angela was heard on the warehouse floor wandering from place to place, "We can't sleep down here. It's cold and stinks."

"Then get your butt upstairs," Darryl said to her and Angela immediately put up a scowl on her face but Darryl, already warn down today would not put up with her mouth and after being stared down the accountant hustled upstairs and hid inside her cubicle. Pam and Jim did not care for they were still on the couch. In their heads they were trying to figure out how they were going to get out and how they were going to find their daughter. Pam felt a chill run up her spine at the thought that her daughter could be one of the infected and she clung to Jim ever tighter.

Stepping out from the bathroom Charles just moved past the two in the kitchen and was about to leave when he heard Erin call him, "Hey, you were in Iraq right?"

"Yes?" voice quite perturbed.

Kelly was the next one to ask a question "Was it hot there?"

Merely ignoring the question Charles began to leave again when Erin asked, "Listen, uh, do you think we can make it now that we have guns and stuff?"

"Guns are just part of it. Your head is the key. I've known people that have escaped enemy territory without firearms. Your brain is a far deadlier and useful tool and as long as you keep it under control and use it you can do anything," sounded like a cheesy motivational speech but Erin actually smiled and felt confident until Dwight poked his head into the room, "Hey, what are you guys doing in here? Oh my God, we're you making out?"

"No, Dwight, don't be gross," Kelly said wiping her hands into a paper towel however Dwight could not help but smile in his mind at the thought of two girls making out. Nudging his way through the spectacle wearing German the soldier was going to leave the office when Dwight followed and accosted him further.

"Were you in Spec Ops?" meaning special forces, "Did you kill people?" Charles did not answer instead just kept walking until reaching Jim and Pam on the couch.

"You guys alright?" the soldier asked.

"Yeah, man, we're good," Jim said in a whisper and motioned with his head at the sleeping Pam that he did not wish to disturb.

Before he could get any further Dwight was on his heels again, "You probably killed thousands of innocent children in Afghanistan," he began, "Not that I mind, less people…"

"I was in Iraq not Afghanistan."

"Fine. Then thousands of innocent Iraqi…" beginning once more only to be dealt a rabbit punch to the gut.

Just an hour before night fall, sun almost at the horizon and most of the people were inside the warehouse where Erin and Kelly brought down their soup to give to the others. Standing aside and mocking the line of people as they came up to the pot with their dink bowls for a drop of gruel Dwight could not help but scoff, "Suddenly now we're a soup kitchen. This is not supposed to be a charity, people. Zombies are outside just like I've been warning them for years. No one took me seriously and when they were literally at the front door they didn't know what to do. I said, "Hey everybody, listen to me. I know what to do" and did they listen? No. They just ran to their corners and cried like a scared bitch."

Though the soup was not terrible in taste and did fill their stomachs the people were not accustomed to just having soup for dinner but Charles also rummaged through his bags and found some chocolate bars.

A question was posted, "Who's going to take first watch?" No one raised their hands and Hank was already becoming tired of staring at the screens. When no one stepped forward Charles said he would and asked to be relieved in four hours.

When Scranton was at last cast in darkness and Charles, sitting on the roof of the building was bundled up tightly against the cold. He kept looking at his watch as the minutes ticked by. No activity outside except for a few shambling ghouls in the streets. Power to the neighborhood was still working but their brightness also illuminated the columns of black and brown smoke rising to the sky. Despite the apocalyptic and desperate nature this situation conjures up the people inside the building felt safe but for themselves, however their family was another matter that kept some up during the night.

When it reached midnight Charles climbed down from the roof and went inside the branch office to shake off the cold and found Jim and Pam still asleep on the couch, a coat covering both of them. Walking by he heard a shivering noise from behind Erin's reception desk and stepped around to see the Erin sitting on floor under the desk surface, hair over her eyes, knees bent up to her face and arms wrapped around them making a cocoon of sorts.

"You alright?" he whispered to which she jerked and backed an inch away then calmed.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm just cold." Charles disappeared and came back with a blanket that he had kept inside his rucksack.

"Here, use this."

"What about you?"

"I'll be fine." He left to the kitchen and Erin wrapped herself up in the blanket and slowly fell asleep. Sometime later, she did not know when but the lights were off and it was still dark outside but the phone rang. It took a moment for Erin to understand that the phone was ringing then she hurriedly came out from underneath her desk and began fumbling for the phone. Finding the receiver she held it to her ear and out of instinct replied, "Dunder Mifflin this is Erin."

"Erin? It's Andy" a weak and garbled voice was heard through the receiver and the receptionist stood up.

"Andy? Where are you?"

"I'm at a….station with Gabe. We're okay but …..gonna….help…." the line went dead.

"Andy? Andy!" Erin yelled into the phone. Realizing that it was pointless to talk into it anymore she hung up and collapsed into her chair and head into her hands.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters to The Office. They are owned by NBC. I own the character of Charles.

"Where are they?" Charles asked a rather desponded Erin as she was fighting back tears. She had woken up Charles whom was sleeping in the break room in a chair behind the only table in the room. Together they walked back out into the office where Erin took out from one of the drawers of her desk a small map of the town.

"They're at a gas station," she said, "Didn't say where exactly but it has to be close. There aren't too many near here." Placing the map on the surface of the desk Charles carefully scanned the streets as Erin pointed out the station that was closest, on Vick Street. It was about six blocks away and not a straight shot but required a couple of turns on narrow city streets. It would be dangerous in civilian cars but they had a better shot with a converted delivery truck that had not been done yet. Sitting down beside him in her chair Erin began to lower her head into her hands. Gabe was out there surrounded by the undead and she was not with him. Such an endeavor would take hours that they did not have. It was still dark outside, sunrise would not be for another three and there was no knowledge of how dense the undead were downtown.

It was still dark when the delivery door was opened and Darryl and warehouse worker Michael wheeled out the welding equipment as well as scraps of metal from Bob Vance that they would use to make the plow. Racked by the cold they covered their bodies with a leather apron and began to work as most of the others were still sleeping. The only time they stirred when the cold air slapped them from the open door and they cursed to have it closed. Charles took a map of the town and began plotting the route as well as the secondary's just in case their route was blocked.

It was nearing dawn; the sky was beginning to lighten above the rooftops when Bob Vance came out just as Darryl was putting the final touches to the plow with an idea of his own. "I have a five hundred gallon water container sitting in the back of the lot. We were gonna get rid of it but I figure if we put it in the back of the truck we can fill it up at the station and bring it back here. That way we can fill up the rest of the trucks and have fuel left over for anything else that comes up." Nodding with a smile Darryl looked over at his worker Michael who was also smiling extinguishing his torch. "Let's get it done."

Putting the container in the back with the help of a forklift was simple enough and there was more than enough space left over in the back for supplies and with the route planned out there was nothing left for them to do except roll out. "I think it's time to take a spin with our new wheels," Darryl smiled patting the hood of his truck. Most of those inside were still asleep when Hank opened the gate and the delivery truck rolled into the street. Looking both ways the road was clear and the truck lurched forward, the plow pushing through the still, cold air inches above the surface. With him was worker Michael and Charles whom was sitting in the open cargo compartment, rifle tightly in one hand and an overhead strap in the other. The sun was almost above the horizon and as they left the building Erin was standing in the window of the conference room waving at them.

The streets were almost entirely deserted. An occasional ghoul was wandering along the sidewalks and seeing the truck let out a roar and gave chase. Street lights were still on as were the lights of many buildings but no people and there were cars and trucks still in parking spots on the sides of the streets or in driveways. "This is creepy, man" Michael said to Darryl as they looked at the neighborhood. "Where are all the people? They can't all be dead." Six blocks to the station Michael had the highlighted map in his lap and his rifle in his hands with the window cracked an inch letting the cold morning air inside. In his mind Darryl was counting the number of blocks, his eyes carefully reading the street signs as Michael pointed them out and instructed which way to turn. When the station came into view at last the lights were still on yet no ghouls in or around the area.

Feeling the vehicle slow down Charles knew that they were approaching the station and prepared to jump out. Sliding between the two pump stations to make them a shield Darryl parked the vehicle but kept the engine running just in case a speedy exit is necessary. "You two get inside, start the pumps, and get those two out." Charles said as he took the nozzle from one of the pumps, removed the cap on the tank, and placed the nozzle inside and locked the lever. Stepping down from the bumper Charles kept his eyes open as the two workers went inside the building to accomplish their tasks.

There was one glass door to get inside the building and naturally it was locked but the power inside illuminated the shelves and the white tile floor. "Hey, Andy" Darryl began knocking on the safety glass, "Its Darryl. Open up." The loud noise echoed through the silent neighborhood. Each impact made their hearts race that it would alert the undead and have them converge on their location. "Open the f***in door!" Darryl was becoming impatient. He did not want to be here, certainly not for Andy and Gabe. The fuel was more important than these two's lives. A figure appeared from the back of the door, in the corridor that led to the bathrooms next to the refrigerators that had all the cokes and beers. Wide eyes looked back above the shelves at the two at the door and then the figure came running forward. Michael took a step back and aimed his rifle fully expecting that the figure in the tweed suit was a running zombie until it reached the door and they recognized it as Andy. He looked terrible. Face was soiled and haggard; hair a mess, his suit was actually rented and torn. The sleeve at the shoulder was ripped and speckled with red and black. Andy unlocked the door and the two warehouse workers charged in, pushing the tired office worker aside and Darryl began to search for the fuel pump switch as Michael went in and looked around then back at Andy, "Where's the other guy?"

"Gabe? Yeah, he's in the back," his fatigued voice fading out and he merely pointed in the direction in which he came. Michael went that way as Darryl, finding the right buttons behind the counter activated them and gave Charles thumbs up. The fuel began to flow. Stepping back in front of the counter Darryl approached Andy whom was leaning against one of the aisle shelves his free hand rubbing his eyes.

"What the hell happened, man?" Enquired Darryl and he looked over Andy who hands were also nipped with blood lining the base of his fingernails.

"Oh, um," throwing his head back and staring at the ceiling for a second then back down at the floor, "I was on my way here when _someone _hit me." When he said that, his head turned slowly towards the corridor that Michael disappeared down amounting to disdain.

Keeping his composure Darryl reached out and lightly tugged at the sleeve of his jacket, "What happened here?"

He flashed a smile, but his eyes were narrow as they looked down his hand rising up to show his cuff and sleeve, "This little doggy came and ripped my sleeve." Turning his wrist over showed several teeth mark at the bottom of the cuff.

"Little doggy?"

"Yeah, a dog. A German Shepard," Andy scoffed.

Taken aback at first Darryl's mind raced. Dogs. Were they infected as well? Could the infected people manage to transmit this disease to them and thus allow the canine to change into a infected predator? It would be a nightmare because dogs were far more swift and aggressive than humans and had more abilities such as acute smell and hearing. "Naw," Andy waved it off, "When I hit that car the girl's dog was in the backseat jumped out the window and pounced on me."

"Holy s***" a yell came from the back. Michael came running forward towards the two, slipped on some spilled liquid on the floor, and fell onto a display booth of Snickers.

"What is it?" Darryl picked him up.

"That guy is infected" Michael coughed. Looking back at Andy they were surprised to see him composed and more interested in the damage to his jacket despite seeing Michael's run and spill. "That guy in the back has been bit. I locked him in the bathroom."

Darryl gave a nod and he decided it was best to leave him there, fill up the tank, and get back to the office. "Okay, let's go." Walking out the preppy Yale graduate was still standing there examining his damaged jacket only to feel the large, cold grasp of Darryl's hand gripping his collar and dragging him out. Filling on the tank was still on going and slow. Fifteen gallons in a regular car was easy however five hundred dragged on for eternity. His eyes kept scanning the surroundings as the sun climbed higher and higher above the buildings. Shadows moved and exposed the streets and they were empty however he knew that silence was deceiving. Fuel flowed and a line climbed up inside the tank showing the amount that was in there. Quarter of the way, about one hundred twenty five gallons and all the while Charles was doing calculations in his head. He figured that this pump was filling up eight gallons every minute divide that by five hundred it would take just over an hour to fill up this tank and they did not have that long. Walking around to the driver's seat Darryl checked the vehicle and decided to turn off the engine but kept the keys in the ignition. Hearing the engine turn off Charles' head appeared around the side of the vehicle then went back. Seeing Andy sitting on the rear bumper rather casually of the truck Charles enquired, "You're Andy, right?"

"That I am" smiling and folding his arms with pride.

"Where's the other guy?"

Andy's face, his smile, disappeared when it became clear that he did not care for him but for Gabe. "He's inside the store." Quickly pointing back from where he came he thrust his hands into his pockets. His tone turned low and bitter as he kicked a small rock by his feet.

Before the soldier could ask further Darryl came around to inform them, "Michael told me that Gabe was bit and he's locked inside the bathroom." His look was also disappointed however with Gabe locked away there was no need to put a bullet in his head just let him stay there. However Charles was not convinced and jumped down from the cargo bay and walked inside the store leaving the warehouse workers puzzled to what he was up to.

"I could sure go for a beer right now," Andy said as the two warehouse workers looked at him puzzled but also agreed that they could use a cold one. Their eyes glared at the door of the store as Charles disappeared into the back.

"He's not gonna…" Michael began. A high pitch screech then a loud bang made their bodies shakes in amazement, blood was rushing to their extremities as they gripped their weapons tightly expecting to fight. Instead Charles came out and without saying a word climbed up onto the bumper and kept watching the tank and his surroundings.

It was a long wait and every extra minute they stayed outside the more their hearts raced in anticipation that they were slowly being surrounded and would have undead coming at them from all directions. "Come on, let's go," Darryl began and Michael agreed however Charles calmly refused.

"Not yet," he said.

"Come on, man, we're sitting ducks," Michael pleaded however Charles could not be swayed.

"We're going to need the fuel. Just hang tight," he said eyes looking at the pump that was reading three hundred gallons and nearly a thousand dollar charge. They would not receive a single dollar for this. Four hundred gallons and there was a new growing fear that soon the pump would run dry however it kept flowing and the line inched closer to the top.

"There. Done." Charles said taking out the nozzle, twisting the cap on, and putting the pump back onto its handle on the station. Dusting off his hands he climbed into the back as Darryl and Michael climbed into the cab and prepared to get out of this area. The last onboard was Andy who asked where they were going.

"To the office," Charles said.

"Oh goodie," he said as the vehicle rolled forward.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of The Office. They are owned by MSNBC. I do own the character Charles. He is my creation.

"They're back!" Erin exclaimed loudly bounding down the stairs towards the garage. Hank, the security guard, was told by her several times to open up the gate however the man merely looked up at her with condensation and gave the keys to Dwight to open them. The truck slowed down and turned into the parking lot and at the front door Andy, Charles, and dock-worker Michael jumped out and saw Erin come running at them. Her feet slowed down and came to a stop looking at all their faces, "Where's…where's Gabe?" She looked at them then at the truck as Darryl moved it to the loading dock. Their faces were grim and it began to sink in that something terrible had happened.

When they went inside the first person there Andy, the survivor plucked from the darkness, met was Jim. "Hey there, Big Tuna," Andy put up a smile and shook Jim's hand rather tightly, "How's it hanging?" he leaned in a little closer, "Still to the left?"

"Uh, yeah," Jim nodded rather nonchalantly.

"Be careful," Andy warned, "Could stick that way" he laughed and nudged Jim's side with his elbow. Before long the conversation shifted to what had happened to Gabe at the gas station, however Andy was not very forth coming. Erin urged him to talk as soon as they came up from the garage, hovering over Andy, asking repeatedly, "Where's Gabe? What happened to him? Why isn't he with you?" For awhile he just blew her off and remained focused on telling the story of him hitting the car until Erin finally cornered Andy in the kitchen and screamed, "Where is Gabe?" Her cry was so loud everyone is earshot paused in their steps, heads cantered to their direction. Though cheeks rose red from embarrassment Erin persisted.

As hard as it was to say Charles stepped forward. He was blunt, "He was infected. He was trapped inside the bathroom so I had to finish him."

Her face fell, turned bleach white, mouth hung open, "You…you shot him?" Erin's voice quivered as her hands came up to cover her mouth. Charles felt that he should say, "I had to do it" but that would put that as an excuse making him sound arrogant somehow, but he had to say something.

"He was bit. The infection changed him…" he began to say but the receptionist, fighting back tears forced herself to say something over him. "Wait, but I just spoke to him on the phone. I mean, before you guys went out..I…" she tried to run a hand over her hair but they trembled so much she hit herself in the forehead.

"Actually," Andy raised a finger up to interrupt, "you didn't talk to Gabe, you talked to me." He spoke matter of factly, showing no emotion at the loss of a man he was stuck in a gas station with overnight, whom he worked with, and had an emotional rivalry with over Erin. The receptionist shot a glare at the smug guy in the chair then turned back to Charles whom was also stoned face. She forced herself to ask, though not wishing to know the details in truth. "Did he…did he suffer?"

"No, it was quick" the soldier replied.

Nodding she looked at him then at Andy who was sitting still, face looking towards the door but eyes glaring down at the table before him and putting up a hollow smile. She lifted her bottom lip, turned, and stormed out.

"That was awkward" Andy said.

Later on the weeps of Erin from behind the desk hung in the air of the office as the hours dragged on. She lost someone and there were other people that would be missing, people that she may never have contact with again and she forced herself into a prison behind her desk to weep and suffer, alone.

In the garage Darryl commented to his dock workers about the success of their bull dozer trucks. "We got; maybe, enough metal to outfit two other trucks into dozers, but that would be enough to get us and enough supplies out of town." Heads nodded affirmatively all around. Three trucks would make conditions rather cramped but they felt it was better than nothing. Immediately Darryl began delegating tasks to his workers in what to do but not long into his process he heard Dwight approach ready to shoot it down.

"Hold on. Hold on. You can't do that. Not without authority."

Darryl scoffed and looked at Dwight with his dirty glasses and now fussed up hair, "Whose authority?" he asked loudly, "In case you haven't noticed, there is no more authority!"

"No true," Dwight interjected holding in one hand the shark skinned handle of his Katana blade that he walked around at his side as a sort of symbol of his status, he clung deeply to the title of "Assistant Regional Manager" and the sword was his badge of sorts. "Those trucks are property of Dunder Mifflin," Dwight began, "They cannot be altered or tampered with."

Darryl exploded, throwing down his metal backed clipboard, "You know what? I don't give a damn if they're company trucks, my trucks, or yours!" he stabbed his finger at him and Dwight, surprised seeing the strongly built man with fire in his eyes and took a step back, clutching his sword tightly, "I'm going to have them changed so we can get the hell out of here and if you don't like it…" he paused and looked at the man square into his saucer sized eyes, "Then you can file a complaint with the company." The conclusion baffled Dwight, he flicked his eyes at Darryl then at his co-workers and stammered to give out a response but he was stalled by the outbursts of laughter from everyone gathered around.

Creed was in the office, his bag placed on his desk, feet propped up next to them, shoes off hands behind his balding head, fingers intertwined. He relaxed this entire time and after finishing off the last of his stash he watched the ceiling as the buzz slowly began to wear off and his mood turned to disappointment. "Alcohol is good," he said, "They give you a buzz but the buzz can kill you and also in the morning it's just a pain. That's why I like to take "recreational" stuff. They're smaller to travel with plus if I put them into these little vials with the right labels on them I can take them anywhere." Slightly shaking his head negatively, "Can't do that with beer."

Meredith was the one suffering from acute alcohol withdrawal. Her hands were wrapped tightly around her body and she kept pacing back and forth inside the garage, muttering to herself and snapped at people going by. She had a major headache and when Angela took out a bottle of rubbing alcohol from a box she pounced on it and an intense tug of war battle ensued. "Give me the bottle" Meredith growled but Angela's petite hands gripped the plastic bottle tightly and she braced her body, feet pressed against the concrete floor as the redheaded alcoholic began to gradually win dragged Angela inch by inch across the floor. "Give me the bottle, bitch!" After two minutes Angela finally let go and Meredith, bottle held in both hands, rushed to the bathroom where she jumped into the stall, locked the door, and began to drink the sacred nectar.

Oscar and Kevin were at the generator, both taking turns rotating the peddles to keep the batteries charged. Both of them enjoyed this little exercise. It made them fit and also it kept them out of doing any other work like moving the boxes or helping alter the trucks. Since the siege began, Kevin noticed a change in his body and liked it. "I went to the scale in the girl's bathroom and I saw that I weight ten pounds less. Ten pounds! Also, look at my arms" he held up his arms that were covered by his white, buttoned up undershirt that was stained by a wide pool of dried up sweat. "I got biceps now. Oh yeah" he smiled widely, "the ladies love biceps."

A full tank of gasoline extended the range of the vehicles but the survivors were still debating as to where they could go. Here, where they were, was safest right now, however, Dwight knew that they needed a food source that was renewable and again he submitted that they retire to his family's beet farm only to be admonished by his boss Michael whom did not wish to die there. "But Michael," Dwight rose up to defend his heritage "Beets are actually proven to be more nutritious than…" only to have Michael flap his mouth and wave his hands wildly that silence his worker.

Erin found Charles as he was going through the supplies, "Hey, I've been meaning to ask you. When you first came here you said that you were heading out of town, right? Where were you going? I mean, all this is too much for just one guy."

He confessed, "I was heading to the outskirts of town where me and my friend had a safe house set up. It's not complete but we tried to build up everything we would need to survive."

"Do you think it can hold all of us?"

"To be honest, I doubt it," he began. "It was originally designed for maybe twelve people." Erin was a bit scared of this aspect yet before she could mention this there was a cry from the conference room from Pam as she was gazing out of the window into the parking lot.

"Oh God!" pulling away, hands over her mouth, eyes wide open.

First person inside the room at her side was Jim, "What? What is it?"

"It's Roy" her voice quivered then retreated to the desks as Jim went to the window himself to see the husky man that was once Pam's fiancé at the front gate, his powerful hands gripped around the metal rails shaking the entire frame as he bellowed out for someone to come and unlock it. There was a immediate debate as to whether or not to let the man inside. His boisterous voice was attracting more undead into the area, however, he could be infected. Allowing him would expose everyone.

"Please," Pam pleaded, "Let him in" she said to Charles. He agreed but laid out ground rules;

Two guards on him at all times.

Everyone keep your distance until he is checkout for bites or infection

If he is, I will put him down

Agreeing Dwight, Darryl, Charles all donned gloves and checked their weapons and headed outside where Roy was still furiously shaking the gate. "Let me in, dammit!" he roared then nervously looked around him, seeing the approaching undead. Before the gate was unlocked Dwight looked at him, "Before I let you in, here are the rules:" and he was about to begin explaining them.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever" Roy spouted back repeatily jumping up and down. When the gate was opened enough he darted in only to see the muzzles pointed at him. Dwight locked the gate and everyone moved to the right, into the parking lot where the headges protected them from eyes. "Let me see your skin" Dwight began.

"What?" said a disponded Roy.

He said it in a loud, authoritive matter, "Let. Me. See. Your. Skin." Before he could even lift off his shirt it was obvious that he was wounded. Roy was a former warehouse worker and fiancé of Pam and was fired when he found out that Jim professed his love to Pam and tried to attack him only to be sprayed in the face with mace by Dwight. Hiis face was pale, eyes hollow, skin hanging as he began to sweat in the cold air. "Are you okay?" Pam asked as he huddled behind the three well armed men.

"Yeah, I'm good" he said quickly, body shifting side to side constantly in an inpatient state.

"Are you sure? You seem…off," she replied.

"Yeah, I'm good, babe. Just tired" waving her off. His refusal to make eye contact made it apparent that he was hiding facts and Dwight demanded to be shown where the blood smears on his shirt came from.

"It's not mine" Roy said but none were convinced.

"You've been bit, haven't you?" Charles said.

"No. I haven't" he roared.

"Bullshit" Darryl said, "You always were a bad liar."

"What does it mean?" Pam asked the men, "Bitten?"

"Fluid to fluid contact is what causes a person to turn," Dwight began, "A bite, scratch, anything that allows your blood to be contaminated by their blood will make you turn. There is no cure, no way to stop it once it happens." Her face turned bleak, eyes wide as she stared up at Dwight then at her former fiancé and she put her hands over her mouth and stepped back as Jim held her.

"That's what you wanted all this time, huh, Halpert?" Roy suddenly spoke out, "Yeah, that's what you've always wanted!" He began stabbing a finger at Jim and took a step towards them but Dwight kept his hand on his weapon.

Taking a sip from his drink Roy let out a long, low sigh looking at the soldier straight in the eye. "I never thought it would end this way." He said, his voice beginning to dip becoming gravel like. His skin was becoming paste and sweat lathered. He was about to turn, his body could not fight the infection any longer. His eyes slowly closed and Charles graipped his pistol tightly. Upstairs Pam was sitting at her desk, head in her hands, weeping uncontrollably as the pistol shot made her wince. It was over and she fell into Jim's arms. "I want Cecelia" she cried, "I...I want her in my arms." It was soemthing she said for the umpteenth time and yet Jim kept telling her that they will, soon. Kelly watched the couple from the kitchen and when Ryan came out of the bathroom she threw her arms around her, "Oh Ryan, i'm so sad. Take me." He could not resist.

In the garage Oscar had ended his turn on the generator and gave it over to Kevin. Taking a drink of water and relaxing his arms he found Charles talking to Erin nearby and wanted to impose a question; "Is the President going to drop a nuclear bomb on us?" his face showing fear that a positive answer would confirm his worst fears.

"No," Charles responded bluntly, "He won't. Two problems from this movie sterotype. One, the blast will incinerate entire cities then no one could go into them for years. The land will be covered in fallout that will blow with the wind and contaminate entire counties and kill any in the area. Second, there is no way to gauge what radiation will do with the zombies. Alpha, Beta, and Gamma radiation will kill us in a matter of hours but there is no way to know what it would do to them since their organs no longer function and they cant feel pain. Maybe the radiation will break down their skin and muscle and eventually make them collapse or maybe they will absorb the radiation like sponge and walk around with it." A sequel to a bad movie; Keystone Radiation Zombies.

Darryl and his team were wrapping up their work on the trucks. These vehicles forming a convoy would slice through everything in their path. Darryl wanted to reinforce the windows but did nt have the material for that. Now the question would be where they could go. A question asked and debated since the beginning but never had a proper answer developed. Dwight still wanted his family's farm, Michael refused, Pam wanted to get her daughter, Michael refused, others wanted to get to their family, Michael refused. Though boss of the branch Michael did not have control anymore. The people wanted to do what they wanted unless a leader gave them a course and Charles was trying to come up with his own answer. Excusing himself he went to the roof and pull out his survival radio. Setting it on the right frequency he began to broadcast. He had done this since the outbreak but could never reach anyone proper. "Come on, be there," muttering under his breath.

"One-one, one two, over."

"One-two, one-one," a voice chriped. "Is it you? Oh thank God," a voice came through on the other end that he reconized. "Where the hell have you been?"

"Detour," he replied, "Trapped in town with other survivors. Working on exfil. What's the situation there, over?"

"Secure at our position, break. News is not good elsewhere."

"SITREP?" meaning situation report.

"Most news broadcasting is offline but I am in contact with other HAMM operators. Military is falling back on their bases to secure them and the government has moved to NORAD. I know that, for the most part, every state capital is overrun but Florida is in a better position. They are using "bait and lure" techniques to get at the zombies. However the Air Force is running out of munitions. Canada is not doing any better. I'm getting reports from their government that thousands of Americas are streaming over their border however they are bringing the infection with them and now thousands are moving to Newfoundland and creating an island fortress there."

"What about this Bait and Lure?" Charles asked.

"Psy-Ops Humvees, with their megaphones and speakers, go into areas infested and broadcast loud music and slowly lure the zombies out of there, into an open field where the Air Force and arty hits them."

"How effective is that?"

"Pretty good, but they are using up more than they can kill."

"How are you there?"

"I'm good. Food is more than enough. Water as well. No one else here but me but these radio reports keep me sane." the voice chuckled.

"We're working on our ex-fil. Should take two days. I better get downstairs."

"I'll be here. See you soon, sweetheart."

"See you soon." Turning off the radio Charles pocketed it and made one last walk around the roof top then went back inside the building as the rest of the survivors were gathered around Andy, enquiring what had happened outside there during the night. "Oh, it was fun," Andy said smiling, "Gabe came inside and was like, "Oh my God" throwing his hands up wildly immitating Gabe's rather docile voice. "That clerk was no use. He ran out the back and we just locked the doors and began drinking slurpees for a few hours. Got one hell of a sugar buzz, i'll tell you that."

"Did anyone check the prisoner?" Dwight asked. It was Ryan's responsibilty but he was upstairs listening to Andy, sitting down rather drained being with Kelly.

"Uh, no" he replied, eyes darting around the room. He was in a bad position and after getting up he walked downstairs to the garage and looked at the closet door. It was shut but after giving a tug on the knob it slid open and there was no prisoner inside. "uh-oh" Instead of sounding the alarm he closed the door and walked away with his hands in his pockets. It could have been over an hour since the last check thus Michael's nephew could be anywhere in the building.

"Hey" Darryl said, "You hear that?" freezing in his steps, he heard a vehicle turn over out in the parking lot. Unheard of because everyone was inside. "Hey, hey, I got something here," Hank called out from the security booth. A vehicle was pulling out in the parking lot, revving speed, and charged for the gate. "No,no,no,no!" they called out but the vehicle missed the gate and plowed into the fence. "Someone get that fool!" Darryl ordered. Rolling up the shudders he and others began to run towards the front as the vehicle backed up quickly and plowed for the fence once again. It was a strong gate but it was not invincible. Slowly the bating made the metal bend and then it gave way. "Damn!" Darryl caried as the gap in the perimeter was made and in came the zombies. Their curses of Luke were colorful as they retreated back inside, closing the shutters, and raising the alarm. The gap created was approximently five feet wide and had cleared away that section of the fence. As the worried survivors gathered to look upon this the zombies gathered and began to filter inside. "No!" Michael screamed, "They're in! We've screwed!"

Charging through the office, slapping a magazine into his rifle, "Get to the trucks. Everyone! Load the supplies!"

"Where are you going?" Erin asked.

"Stall for time," Getting downstairs he used a side exit to the side of the building and saw the advancing horde, dozens in number with more coming in. His order to load up was the precaution. The building was weak unless they can get everything upstairs however, when he stepped out his nose picked up something burning.

"Shit! Hank called out, "The stairway is on fire!"

"What? How?" Kevin stopped his churning of the pedals.

Charles could not worry about that. Checking his rifle on last time, taking a knee, he began firing off rounds one at a time to the advancing wall. Bodies dropped and the zombies became attracted to him by his weapon's report and gave up on trying to take the door and slowly marched on him. He quickly went through one magazine, dropped it, and put in a fresh one. In just two minutes he went through two magazines and slain a great many then the windows up above were thrown open and Bob Vance and others began firing down on them with shotguns and rifles, then Molotov cocktails thus the zombies attention was diverted again by weapon fire and their taunts. Thus the back and forth flock went at the same time those inside the garage were ferously loading supplies into the backs of the trucks. Staying here was no longer an option. Their perimeter had been breached by large numbers with more well on their way. Retreating upstairs was a viable option until Erin smelled something in the air and went to the stairwell. Seeing smoke seep through the cracks in the frame she reached out to pull the handle only to feel the heavy hand of Dwight smack it away with a warning, "Don't open it. There's a fire on the other side. If you open it, the air will rush in and cause a back draft." It was the same fire Hank had seen and raced for a extinguisher only to have Dwight appear and tell him the same thing. Slowly the fire began to grow, the two groups of survivors, one upstairs the other down, were doing their business. Though the firepower was slaying the zombies at an incredible rate more were spilling in. Looking upon them; skin gray, eyes hanging open that never blinked, hair falling out in clumps, mouths hanging open showing mangled yellow teeth. Some were emaciated others fat from consuming flesh that their bowls exploded yet they still desired more as they walked over their intestines. No longer were they reconizable people, just a odd collection of monstrosities that wanted them. A Molotov fell into their midst, ignited, and up went a bright yellow flame. Walking through the flames, clothes burning away came nude monsters, hair gone as well skin melting away slowly. Inside the building another fire was spreading in the stairwell and then it cut the power cables and the building was plunged into darkness. The shudders were cracked open to allow light in then there was smoke seen coming through the outer doors meaning that the fire was coming their way. There was panic, the people wanted to leave immediately however Darryl was a pillar of rock and told the people to remain focused on getting the supplies inside the trucks and told Madge and others to get the fire extinguishers ready.

Dwight growled, "That little twit." He knew it was Luke that caused this.

So many were coming in they eventually reached the front door and Charles retreated inside, using up all his ammunition. Before giving the order for everyone to get to the garage they dropped the last of the Molotovs. Despite all their preperations, all they did and could have done it was not enough. Charles came in and told that they were at the front door. Would take only a few minutes to reach the garage and they were not done loading. Taking up a fire ax Dwight said proudly, "I'll hold them off." and moved to the first floor entrance and waited. A moment later Jim came up beside him holding an aluminum baseball. "Well...crap" Jim said realizing his perdictament and looked at the German as he cleaned his glasses. Somehow Dwight was calm as the zombies began to slam their fists again at the door. Weakened already they came in after pushing aside the boxes. "Crap!" yelled Jim as the two raised their weapons and began to chop widly.

Rolling the shudders fully open and looking about Charles saw the avenue was clear as hundreds of zombies were streaming through the gap that kid had made and not the gate itself. Going up to Darryl in the lead truck Charles climbed up to the window, "Ram the gate and take the avenue out of town." Giving a thumb-up Darryl rolled up his window and shoved the key into the ignition. The last bags of supplies were emptied out of the storage room, every bit of supplies were inside the trucks, now the survivors clambered aboard as the zombies at last made their breach. Holding his axe high above his head Dwight let loose a shrill battle cry and brought it down into the head of a ghoul that was the first through the door then extricating from the skull swung it left to right in a wide arc that nearly cleaved the top of Jim's hair.

"Seventeen," Dwight boasted as he continued to swing, "Eighteen. Nineteen! Twenty."

One mighty swinging and the already chiseled bat was broken, the tip falling to the floor leaving Jim with a spear tip that he hesitated and glared at for a moment then began stabbing into he encroaching wall. Dwight however was having a much easier time of it, his heavy wedge weapon was sending the ghouls sprawling, their throats sliced open or their craniums cleaved. They were not clean decapitations but it did knock them out of the way to take at the one behind and those knocked down were slow to rise. Both knew that it was not about garnering kills but to delay the inevitable long enough for the boarding of the vehicles and the supplies. Just a minute later Kevin threw in the last sack of rice and clambered aboard. Looking at those with her and finding Jim missing Pam cried out to her love, "Jim!" as the truck came to life and began to lurch forward as the gears were put into play. Her man turned and came bounding over the tables, looking over his shoulder to call out to Dwight who knocked down one last ghoul before making good in his retreat. "Head count!" Charles yelled and people began to call out their names.

All safely aboard the trucks that moved out from the loading dock the convoy pointed towards the locked gate and charged forth with every bit of horse power and the dozer smashed it aside with ease. The lead vehicle jarred at the impact and those inside were worried that they would be swamped by the undead at any moment if the vehicle stalled, overturned, or crashed but Darryl was an expert and coached the truck down the road, away from the office. Through the peep holes that were riveted through the walls and doors of the cargo compartment the survivors looked at the shrinking office building, at the hundreds of undead streaming inside, their heads jerked at the roar of the diesel motors and began to give chance however the survivors easily out distanced them.

Their position was overrun, only course of action left was to sterilize it and make nothing serviceable to the enemy. However, since the undead had no comprehension of computers or even the function of a door the act of sterilizing was to kill as many of them as possible in one fell swoop. Charles removed from his haversack a large, green plastic device that looked like a buff butterfly hand squeeze with a metal bar at its base that was a safety lever that he dropped and squeezed the two halves together three times. A low rumble, the foundation shook apart and down went the entire building crushing the life corpses inside.

The siege was over, however, now on the run the survivors clung to the notion that life was still continuing outside the city limits. No life anymore existed in Scranton, just the shamble walking corpses that chased stray animals or gnawed on scavenged bones. The convoy took the turn and found a few zombies lingering around. Instead of opening up with their weapons Darryl pressed his foot hard onto the accelerator and ripped through them, feeling their body's crunch under the tires. Those inside the cargo compartments felt the impacts, a slight ripple, and they wondered what is going on and pressed their eyes against the peepholes lining the walls but only saw the flashes of buildings going by. Jim held Pam tight as they listened to the snarls and roars of zombies giving chase to them. On a regular day it would take perhaps fifteen to twenty minutes, with traffic, to get out of town, however, this day it was much easier as lengths of roads were filled with only the undead. Fellow dock worker Michael was sitting beside Darryl, reading over the maps as they made onto the final run towards the town limits. Thus far their escape had gone smoothly and it lingered in his mind that something was destined to go wrong.

They saw the signs bidding them farewell, "You are now leaving Scranton. We'll miss you." Someone with a sick sense of humor had sprayed painted just underneath the last few words in bright red, "See you in hell." Roaring past the sign Darryl looked back and said, "We did it. We're out," his voice showing his enthusiasm that his doubts had been proven wrong. Though it was expected to be much rejoicing now that they were leaving the city behind there were only some murmurs and a few cries of relief as the survivors realized what they were leaving behind. They were out of Scranton, on their way to the farming fields….


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters to "The Office" they are owned by MSNBC. Charles is my creation.

"Damn that was close" Darryl sighed with a mixture of relief and anger. Though they had slipped out of the office park by the skin of their teeth after their perimeter was compromised by an irate nephew of Michael Scott, Luke. He had rammed the gate prior that allowed zombies inside before. He was captured and imprisoned by the survivors when Ryan was not watching him as he was supposed to Luke escaped and rammed the fence one again and the zombies poured though. Though the survivors' slayed a great many of the undead they could not fight them off forever and the jumped into the converted delivery trucks and ran to the outskirts of town.

When they past the city limits markers there was a great sigh of relief from those imprisoned inside that they had made it out of the office park alive. Though alive they wondered, the further they left the town behind of where they would go. Again, Dwight imposed his sixty acre farm as their new safe house, and though it was not fully suitable for a zombie apocalypse for it was open all around, it was out of the way and they hoped that it was ignored by everyone else. "Okay, fine, we'll go there," Darryl said. Bouncing around inside the interior of the last truck Charles was silent, bitter. Looking at the sweat lathered faces of the others he could not look them in the eye. "You okay?" Erin sat beside him and asked with a gentle nudge of his shoulder. He was reluctant to respond but his face was easy to read, "Hey" Erin assured him, "It's not your fault. We all got out safely." That may be but, he thought, it would not have to come to that if they stayed focused and found ways to stop another breach starting with shooting Luke if they ever saw him again.

Dwight directed where they needed to go. Once cleared out of the city limits and the convoy rolled into the countryside there was a drastic change of their environment. Fully expecting to find the roads jammed with disabled or abandoned vehicles peppered with discarded belongings and maybe a couple carcasses being devoured by vultures they survivors were taken aback when they found fully intact farms with their livestock carelessly grazing. Sheep and goats were still in their pens, and the water still flowed to feed the crops. The only one item missing were the people. Many farmers had automatic timers on their irrigation switches the same to water their livery and lights were still on in their windows yet no other souls. Watching from the cab of the lead delivery truck Darryl and Michael were silent, taken aback. It was black and white to them. The town left behind was chaos and out here prestine and absent.

When they went down the country road, directed by the ever observant Dwight, Darryl was shown the farm house fronted by a large field of cultivated ground ready to be sowed. Pulling off the road and towards the structure, kicking up a large cloud of dust behind them the vehicles came to a stop, however Darryl carefully looked over his surroundings before turning off the engine. He feared an ambush. Looking at his co-worker Michael he told him "Keep that gun ready." This Michael was not the same as Michael Scott, the regional manager. No, instead, the boss was proving to be the non-factor in this running battle. Though he shared the same idea as the others to escape how to come up with it he did not know and was gripped by panic. When the rear shudders went up Michael Scott was the first one to leap out. His shoes touched the dirt driveway sending up a large amount of dust in the soft dirt that inflamed his throat. Forcing it out with several coughs he turned and looked at the main house, "Oh, God. We're screwed," muttering bitterly.

Angela was off next and looking around with the bright sun burning her pale skin she lowered her head and hustled off towards the house not saying a word and even brushed past Dwight before he could say anything. He was next questioned by Charles, "What do you grow here?" looking over the fields.

"Beets mostly, but also hemp," Dwight replied rather proudly. This market had kept their farm in business for generations though the crop did not suit the palate of the others.

"Why can't you grow something useful, Dwight, like candy or something?" It was the same argument Michael had before. He was ignorant of not only crops but also the fact of what was happening around him. Either because he was inept or he did not want to know because the chaos would destroy his mentality either way his whining was starting to strike deeper nerves of the group, even those that had worked with him for many years.

"Michael," Dwight began, "It has been proven that hemp provides more nutrients including amino acids than most other foods."

"Yeah, but it gets you high," Michael replied in a sigh.

"No," Creed interjected, "Hemp is not the same as marijuana. Hemp contains CBD not THC. That's the stuff that gives you the high." Both Michael and Dwight stared blankly at Creed whom nodded lightly, blinked, "What are we talking about?"

Though breathing in the country air filled their lungs and delighted their minds Jim and Pam were still tortured by the abyss of knowledge about their daughter. They had stayed at the farm before, during their honeymoon and could vividly recall several incidents including Pam seeing Mose in the outhouse at night. This is what Jim kept forcing onto his wife to try and take her mind off Cece at least for a little while and it worked, she smiled.

Most of the survivors did not have a change of clothes and they wanted to get out of their sweat soaked fabrics into something clean and then eat a good meal but it would have to wait. "First things, first," Charles directed. "Secure the perimeter and get the supplies inside." There was grumbling in the group but they did as they were told. "I want to see the entire perimeter of this property," Charles began to say then un-holstered his pistol and pointed it to his right in a jerk. Standing as a statue was Mose with a burlap bag over his head resembling a scarecrow. When he looked down the muzzle of the pistol and the leer of the soldier Mose scampered off. Holstering his weapon he resumed his talk casually, "I want to see everything here. The fencing, buildings, water wells; everything." Nodding Dwight was more than willing then Charles grabbed Ryan, "You're coming with us."

"Why?" Ryan said be fumbled as Charles pushed him from behind to go forward.

"'cause I said so," Charles replied. He was still angry that Ryan allowed Luke to escape and this march in his light loafers in the uneven environment would be torture on his feet and serve as a form of punishment. With them gone the rest of the survivors began to off load the supplies. Mose, always shy and reserved, materialized on the patio startling Kelly as she was attempting to raise someone on her cell phone. In a flash he was gone through the front door leaving the Customer-Service Rep confused, "What the….?" It was her first encounter with the squirrel-like Mose. Taking in sacks of rice and flour Jim and Pam slipped out the back door to see the back yard. A grove of trees in bloom sat about one hundred yards away. No animals were present and the wind was coming in a light breeze other than that it was a quiet area.

"Jim, this is creepy," Pam sighed as she looked over the flat, open ground in front of them.

"I know," he replied hands thrust into his pocket.

Watching over the farming fields they fully expected to see a hundred zombies to materialize out of the tree line directly towards them. One bite, one scratch would be enough to make the healthiest soul turn into one of them. It was this fear that made them retreat back inside with the others.

It took perhaps an hour before Charles, Dwight, and Ryan returned. Ryan had removed his loafers and made most of the journey in socked feet rather than endure the blisters of wearing the wrong shoes.

"Well?" Erin asked when they returned.

"It's good ground, but we'll need to do some reinforcing," Charles said taking off his boonie hat and smacking it against his thigh emitting a wisp of dust. Though a worm fence surrounded the entire property it was little more than a marker than an actual barrier. A few zombies tugging on the rails could easily snap it and the gap would be made for the rest to pour through.

"What do we need to do?" Oscar asked slumped into a chair at the kitchen table surrounded by the others doing the same.

"There was a construction sight I saw back down towards the main road. It had a lot of stuff we can use, including concrete." Charles said with Dwight nodding in approval next to him.

"You mean you want us to build stuff out of scratch?" Oscar asked wipping his sweat soaked brow with the back of his cuff.

"Why not, Oscar?" Dwight spoke up, "You're Mexican. You do things like this all the time."

"What are you implying?" Oscar asked but there was no answer.

"Alright, we take a break now but we need to get out there and gather the stuff up before dark. I'll take the delivery trucks. Who wants to go?" Charles said.

Darryl, Dwight, Kevin, Oscar, and Jim all agreed to go and the rest were told to sit tight and keep their presence to a minimum. "If you see a zombie, don't engage it unless you have to and try not to use firearms."

After taking a break to hydrate and check their equipment and vehicles the group mounted up to roll out. They knew they were leaving a larger group behind, however, in their minds they had a lingering doubt that something would happen while they were gone and they were leaving behind the women with Michael Scott, thus they were leaving behind the women and children.


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters to "The Office" they are owned by MSNBC. Charles is my creation.

Greatly relieved to be, of all places, Shrute Farms, the survivors basked in their good fortunte. The open space, fresh air, the dirt and crops, rich countryside was a much better area than being cooped up inside the office and waiting for the zombies to batter down the walls as they cower in a corner. Angela would much rather be anywhere else but here. Her shoes were cut up and covered in dirt from walking around, her clothes reeked of sweat, her hair was a mess and she had not showered in days. Taking one was high on her priorities, not so for the others. They were just glad to be able to be outside in the bright sun with trees giving them shade rather than buildings in an industrial park. The shower the house did have was not up to par and was already being used by Kelly for a good thirty minutes, later accompanied by Ryan, and they drained all the hot water.

"All we need now is a Disney bimbo singing her need for adventure," Angela scoffed as she looked over the area, kicking a loose rock. Rather pessimistic outlook she always carried she was ignored by the others as they tried to keep themselves occupied for the better of the safe house. The party that went out to the construction site would be back in a couple of hours. Those that were left; Bob Vance was sitting on the roof top of the barn to keep watch with a floppy hat and sun glasses to protect his eyes, cradling a rifle. Below him Creed was sniffing through the hemp, rather disappointed at the prospects of not having a fix any time soon. Stanley was taking a break in gathering vegetables from the garden and finding the house bathroom occupied by Meredith he reluctantly went outside to use the outhouse. Just by luck he found Mose standing with the same burlap bag on his head hiding behind a corner of the barn. "What the hell are you doing?" Stanley yelled at the ease dropper whom immediately bolted to the solace of the barn. "Damn, what's wrong with that boy?" Stepping inside the outhouse he was just a second ahead of Michael Scott that had galloped from the house to use the bathroom.

"Hey, hey, hey, hey, Stanley?" knocking on the wood door. "Stanley the manly. I need to use the bathroom."

"When I'm done." Stanley growled.

"Come on, Stanley, please. I've been holding it for fifteen minutes."

"I don't care. I'll be done with I get done," he yelled. It silenced the pestering Michael whom pouted and began to walking around the front of the outhouse, hands thrust into his pocket where Pam found him.

"Hey, Michael, how are you holding up?"

"Fine, Pam. Just waiting for the bathroom. Why can't they make separate bathrooms?"

"…separate bathrooms, Michael?" Pam tilted her head slightly to the side with a raised eyebrow.

"Yeah, separate bathrooms for me and Stanley," his voice was loud enough for Stanley to hear it inside.

"WHAT?" Stanley roared and Pam ran to the house.

Watching from the barn roof top Bob Vance saw the group return from their little sortie and began to wave to the others whom were overjoyed. When the delivery trucks approached they were hailed as returning heroes. The two delivery trucks were coming back twice in number and at the very rear was a small Caterpillar bulldozer being driven by Jim whom rolled into the front yard and began to spin in place, smiling at the rush he felt. When Pam saw him she smiled, such a little kid.

"What did ya find?" Pam asked when she stepped forward, a hand sweeping over her forehead to hold back the wild dark strands of hair being kicked up by the wind.

"A whole bunch of goodies!" Darryl laughed as he jumped out. "Woo mamma, not only that dozer there but also found wire supplies. Pointing over at the bulldozer Jim reluctantly turned of the engine and climbed out of the caged cockpit with a smirk, his clothes soiled from head to neck, he was still adorable.

Charles had been talking on his survival radio through this entire time with his friend trying to get a fix on the situation around her safe house and theirs. Though now it was calm as an isolated lake a soldier knew never to let their guard down, always sleep with weapons within arms' length, and sleep with their gear on. "Two Little Birds buzzed my position this morning," she said. "They dropped me a supply bundle. It had a survival radio with preset frequencies and call signs. I tested it and got in touch with someone at McGuire-Dix-Lakehurst; they are launching CAS and SAR operations from there." Lakehurst was a naval station that had airstrips capable of sustaining even the Globemaster C-17 but CAS meant Close Air Support and SAR being Search And Rescue. "From what I could gather from them the government impresses every available aircraft they could find for these missions. An hour ago I saw a flight of A-1 Skyraiders."

"Did they say anything about you being exfilled?" meaning taken out of the area Charles enquired.

"They told me they were swamped and because I am in a 'favorable' environment I'm not on their need-to-pick up list," she scoffed. "No worries. I'm okay where I am. I'll see you soon."

When he was done talking on the radio Darryl approached Charles, "Hey, man. Who's that person you're talkin' to all the time?"

"My friend. She is not too far from here but the safe house there may not be enough to house all of us. Our plan is we get you guys set up here.."

"What? Just leave us?"

"I never leave anyone. I just want to get you guys on your feet," Charles said pocketing his radio.

Breaking into a smile Darryl "Okay man. You got us this far."

Unloading the delivery trucks there were stacks of concertina wire that must have been dumped by a military supply truck. Concertina wire is different than commercial barb wire. It is soft, malleable, the "T" shaped teeth were made ensnare a person or a vehicle and the wire itself to entangle rather than be a wall to stop an animal from leaving. When they were unloaded there were also the steel stakes to go with them. Carefully the outline of the perimeter was made and the workers assigned to begin stringing up the outer barrier. Hammering in posts Kevin and Oscar went all along to predestinated spots Darryl and dock worker Michael, wearing thick leather gloves, followed them tying in one end and bouncing the unraveling strand until they had reached its end. After one strand was complete they wrapped another around that then perched the third strand on top. This obstacle was just over six feet tall, then Meredith and Bob Vance would come and hang the empty cans filled with rocks on the wire. If someone came to test the wire it would give off a rattle to alert the sentry. However, it was still not the only defense line being constructed. Tangle foot, wire strung up about six inches off the ground were set crisscrossing the field just beyond the concertina. It was fish line 100 pound test, not very easily seen, and if someone tries to cross they would trip and ignite flares. "My kingdom for some Claymores," Charles sighed as he went around checking the work. The hour was slowly crawling along and the shifts were rotated.

Just before it was time to take dinner Bob Vance stopped in his tracks outside and looked up at the sky. "I see a chopper!" and began pointing towards two approaching black figures in the sky. They were Kiowa helicopters, small and swift. Everyone came outside, waving as Charles began using his signal mirror "SOS." The birds flew towards the West then circled about. Coming in low over the farm the survivors began to wave frantically at them, cheering. They could see the crew wave back. They came back and instead of landing to pick them up they kicked a large, green canister, overboard. When it struck the soft, plowed field it remained upright for a moment then fell over. Then the birds were gone. There was much rejoicing as they were retrieved and brought towards the house. Giddy as children at Christmas they ripped open the panel to the canister and looked at what they contained. There were rations, two CAR-15s, ammunition, two survival radios, couple of Night Vision goggles and carefully written instructions on how to use the radios. The ones provided were not like the ones Charles possessed. They had a touch screen with a key pad perhaps linked via satellites instead of radio waves. Reading the instructions it clarified how to turn it on, test the battery, the proper frequencies, and gave them their specific call sign, "Zulu Niner."

"You think they could come up with something better than that," Charles sighed. Dwight fumbled with the second radio, he wanted to call the government, get the big guns to zero in on his given coordinates however Charles did not allow it. Moving up to the barn roof via a ladder Charles activated the radio. Emitting a high pitches squeal that subsided there was pause before words began to appear on the touch screen. Erin was with him, very curious to what was going on. She watched as the phone began to ask questions.

"What is your call sign?" Keying in Zulu Niner the screen went blank and a second question appeared.

"How many in your party?" rather informal, un-militaristic way to questioning but he keyed in the number and it went blank again. Nothing appeared.

"What's going on?" Erin asked.

"Zulu Niner," the script reappeared, "Be advised. Large formation heading to your position. ETA four hours. Cannot exfil. Must defend in place or exfil on your own immediately. What is your descision?"

"Large formation?" Erin asked.

"My guess is a horde is on the way," Charles replied grimly as he looked at the screen then around them. They had not seen anything on their sortie out, but zombies can appear behind you even if you are in a bathroom.

"What are we going to do?" she asked.

"Fight."

He did not want to keep this away from the others. Climbing down from the barn the two went into the house and carefully went over what they knew. Everyone gathered into the kitchen. Cramped though as it was to begin with it would have to do under these circumstances as Charles began spell out the scenario for them. They could flee but they were tired of fleeing. They did not bounce around inside the trucks just to leave again before they could take root.

Darryl gave his idea, "We take that bulldozer we build a wall around us, say what, ten, twelve feet high behind the wire. That would give us an edge." It was an advisable move but they needed to do more. Setting everyone to work to complete establishing the perimeter Charles went back up to roof to try and raise anyone on the net to establish Close Air Support. As hard pressed and thin as they were already he tried to get something directed their way before the horde arrived. Before the group disbanded Dwight said that they had the perfect place to fall back to if the perimeter was breached. He showed a door in the kitchen behind him. Behind that was a narrow flight of stairs leading down with another door about twenty feet blow with no light. "It's a basement. We store our food in there," Dwight said. "It's almost full but I can put everyone in there. The door is made of mahogany, it's very strong. Mohogany."

Ignoring the gnawing pain of hunger the survivors went to work. Jim used the dozer to scoop up the earth, gradually the wall began to materialize. Pam, Erin, Angela, and Kelly began to make Molotov cocktails as Phyllis cooked hamburgers to feed the others. When Jim rolled by the kitchen he stopped by the window next to the women and knocked. With a courteous smile Phyllis answered, "May I help you, sir?"

"Cheeseburger to go, please," Jim smiled back.

"One second." Turning around she went to the stove and came back with the order wrapped in wax paper. "Thank you, enjoy." When Jim rolled away Bob Vance appeared in the window, "May I help you, sir?" Phyllis asked.

"A kiss to go, please." Bob Vance said smiling. Leaning forward they kissed.

When the perimeter was being established Charles began to select positions for everyone. The women were told to stay inside and he did not want Michael Scott anywhere on the line. Madge, Darryl, and the other workers were positioned to the South and East facing another farm. With their weapons stacked they pulled out from the delivery trucks boards they took from a lumber truck. Coupled with nails they fashioned stable platforms that stood a good three feet below the lip of the wall. They used up almost every board making these platforms all around the perimeter. Michael Scott though was the only one not participating. He disappeared. No one could find him. No one bothered to find him. With everyone pitching in the wall was completed. Only the vehicle entrance was not covered. To reinforce that area they moved one of the delivery trucks to block it and filled the gap between the ground and the undercarriage with sandbags.

Andy found Erin when she was in the kitchen filling up canteens for the workers. "Hey, whatcha doin'?" he smiled rather nonchalantly.

"Just getting water for the guys," she smiled holding one canteen under the running faucet. Shrute farms ran on well water.

"Really? Well, isn't too difficult? Need some help?"

"No, thanks. I got it." When this one was filled she placed it with a line of others, retrieved an empty one and began filling it.

"Shouldn't you be working?" Angela sneered.

"Oh please, only suckers work. When I was at Cornell, never studied," laughing, "Got straight As. Woo. Beat that." Andy's rather odd behavior was starting to get to the others, it was bordering that of Michael's pessimistic attitude. Erin had kept the death of Gabe out of her mind up till now but seeing her there Andy could not help but bring it up. Charles was outside heading in when Andy came stumbling out, his head sporting a nasty gash and drenched in water.

"What happened to you?" he asked.

"The bitch flipped out," Andy spoke, words slurred. "She wouldn't have done that if the cameras weren't around."

"Cameras?" Before he could ask any further Andy stumbled off, falling into the ground a couple times.

Dwight was talking to Mose, giving him instructions, "Take Grandma to the basement and put her with the china," the Assistant directed. Nodding the squirrel rushed off and Pam, whom was ease dropping walked away with wide eyes and moved her mouth, "Grandma?"

The wall was made to order. Thirteen feet high stomped down the grade was steep with its base eight feet thick making it a solid obstacle. By the time they finished the dozer was almost out of gas. There was no time to refuel it. Night was falling. Though successful in contacting close air support he was told they could be called for another mission at any time. Still, it beats nothing. With the towers in place ammunition was stacked at each position. Jim was paired with Creed and Ryan facing towards a tree line that was beginning to creep them out. With the sun setting the shadows inside began to move and they thought they were approaching zombies. Oscar, Kevin, and Stanley were on the West wall, deemed the most vulnerable because it overlooked a opened field that would allow a great number of zombies to converge on them. Bob Vance, Andy, and Toby were placed to the East Wall they tried to keep the numbers even all around. The only people free were Charles and Dwight. The women in the kitchen began having mixed sentiments about being cooped up inside with the men outside fighting.

"Bob Vance is out there. I'm going to be with him. I know Charles' intentions are good but I want to be with my husband." Phyllis said walking out. Pam was scared. She wanted to be with Jim but did not want to face the zombies. She would find a way to fight. She found every bottle left over and continued making cocktails.

"That's what you're going to do? Make drinks?" Angela scoffed folding her arms in protest.

"If you say one more word I'm going to cook your head in the oven," Pam shouted pointing a finger just inches away from Angela's face. She was fed up with the petite blondes' pessimistic outlook on everything, including her and Pam met every word of it. Suppressed Angela took up bottles and began to fill them.

When Toby came out of the house, holding a rifle that he had never fired before in one hand and a ammo can in the other. On his walk to his position he ran into Michael going in the opposite direction. "Hey Michael," setting down the can, and presenting his hand, "Good luck."

"I hope they bite your head off and get rid of that stupid look on your face," Michael huffed walking away. Toby turned to watch him leave and shrugged, "Why?"

Hours dragged on. People were waiting. Oscar sat on his platform tired. He had a loaded rifle and shotgun beside him and the hours of laboring had sapped his strength and he nodded off. "Oscar…Oscar….time for dinner." Kevin whispered.

"Yes, momma," Oscar whispered then his eyes opened to find Kevin snickering.

Toby was looking at his rifle perplexed, "I was in the priesthood, now I'm Rambo. Wow, it's a dream come true," he laughed.

Finally, on the West wall, Dwight pointed out with his sharp eyes, movement. Using his NVGs Charles could see shambling figures, a few at first, but behind them were several more and he deduced there were more behind them. What stumped him was what was attracting the zombies to them. All the windows were blacked out, no outside light except from the full moon in the cloudless night. No noise except from the fleeing crickets. Either way, they were coming this way. "No one fire until they are in the wire," Charles directed. Climbing down from the roof he went from position to position assuring the others of what lay in store. "Remember, when the order comes to fall back, fall back. Don't waste any time. If you hesitate, you get locked out." Slowly the undead began to advance. They were coming from the West then Jim saw something in the trees. At first he shook it off as just his imagination then a tripwire went off illuminating the area around it showing six figures. A trip flare went off the South then a moment later from the East. They were coming in from all sides. Just days before, they were just office workers, laboring from nine to five for a paycheck every two weeks that they would waste in a matter of days. Now, they fought the armies of the undead just to see the dawn. Everyone gave their partner a firm handshake; some removed their dirty shirts and scrounged up clean ones. If they would die they would die well dressed. Oscar said a prayer then crossed himself, Dwight did the same except in German. Angela was on her knees prayer into a bible. Erin was with Charles, "Do you believe in God?" she asked when she noticed he was not doing that.

"There's no Atheist in foxholes."

"Can you pray with me?" she asked. He agreed. When they finished she told her to go inside. Left alone on the roof Charles went over everything again. He was still in his tiger stripe fatigues with his floppy hat, face smeared with dirt and grime that it was almost black, hands covered in his Nomex flight gloves he smirked, 'So this is what grandpa felt in Vietnam."

Then they opened fire.

Bursts of 5.56 and 7.62 ripped through the night, and the horde, now driven by the sounds that food was close, began to converge with greater speed. The trip wire did its job. Zombies stumbled over of them, setting off other flares showing the great scope of what was coming at them. Decayed, mutilated figures of all sorts, some were without arms, abdomen perforated by bullets, one had a meat cleaver in its neck. Wearing night gowns, a couple of police officers from Scranton, a soldier somewhere in the middle, and there were even children; something rarely seen a zombie movie. "Take your time, aim people. Aim. Make every bullet count." Dwight shouted. Though not a skilled shooter Toby squeezed off off shot after another. When he saw three drop in rapid succession he smiled, "Gotcha."

On the rooftop of the house, Charles was surveying the field around him, the numbers were growing by the minute, drawn in by the fire the survivors were pumping into them. There were the pop of a M-16, the chatter of a AK and the belch of a shotgun. Looking it over carefully he swore he could hear the chatter of a M-60 and in the distance some Vietnamese. "Zulu Niner, Basco Six, come in, over." The survival radio came to life. Taking it up immediately Charles keyed the button. "Zulu Niner, go ahead." He was on the horn with four F-4 Phantoms; his support.

Hammering the horde before them Oscar and Kevin were firing as fast as they could when they heard the howl of jet engines. Looking up they saw black streaks and the slap of air when they flew over them. "What the hell was that?" Oscar asked. No one knew then the streaks came back and the illuminated field was ripped up by large columns of Earth. The F-4s were using their Vulcan 20mm on the horde, tearing them to pieces. It was "Danger close." The expelled earth was falling down on their heads but it had to be done and the swaths they dwindled the numbers of the undead and creating the gap, the precious seconds to reload and change weapons. The Phantoms were true to their name, they flew in mysterious for only Charles knew of their arrival before that and at first scared the office workers then they were overjoyed when they saw the devastation they cheered. "Bring it ya freak bags!" Darryl was heard shouting as his team gunned them down. "Whoo!"

Lathered in sweat Oscar was firing down from his platform, the sensation the rifle was giving him, the recoil thumping into his shoulder was forcing all the blood out of that area so he dropped the stock to the side and was now firing it from the hip. It was a crazy, inaccurate, fire but he did not care and he was shouting profanities in Spanish at the zombies gathered below. When his last magazine went dry he dropped the rifle and looked for the shotgun. Wrapping the sling around his left side of his neck and cradling the weapon on his right he shouted, "You wanna play rough? Okay. Say hello to my little friend!" and began firing, racking the shotgun as quickly as possible. Kevin was roaring in laughter watching him. Despite the carnage, zombie slain littered the floor, they were still winning. The dead overlapped one another, creating a slowly growing mound in several places along the perimeter. Unbeknownst to the mindless zombies their brethren were creating a ramp leading to the lip of the wall that would allow them to scale the wall and enter the perimeter. Jim recognized it immediately but did not know how to correct him then the idea hit him, use fire to destroy the bodies and he went to find the Molotov cocktails. Pam was filling up bottles with gas and laundry soap to make napalm, her hands burned from touching the gas but she kept filling as fast as she could in the kitchen then passed them over to Angela whom stabbed soaked wicks into the mouths. When Jim burst inside Pam's head jerked up, "Jim? How bad is it?"

"Uh," he stammered, wiping his dirty brow with the back of his hand, "It's getting pretty hairy. Where's the Molotovs?" She pointed out the freshly made tray of twelve that Jim snatched up.

"Be careful," she said. They gave a parting kiss and he ran out into the battle. Returning back to his position he was amazed, "Where's Ryan?" asking Creed that was wearing a pot on his head.

"Damn, gutless pig ran, man," Creed said bitterly, "He ran when you went to get ammo. Zips are in the wire now and I heard they were in the perimeter. Ditty, man, let's ditty." Always an oddball Creed was suddenly the stereotype of a Vietnam veteran. Ditty was a soldier's bag containing his personal items. To ditty meant to get up and go and Jim refused. Handing Creed two of the Molotov's he stared the old man straight in the eye, "Listen here, old man, there is nowhere to run. This is our last stand. No more running."

"You got balls, kid," Creed smiled, "You may not have brain at all but you sure got balls."

Fishing out a light from his pocket Jim lit the wick on his cocktail and Creed's. When the wick was half consumed they hurled it over the mound, into the darkness with the sulking dark figures, but the soil was soft and so were the bodies, the glass did not break. "Shoot the glass," Jim ordered. Creed aimed at the glow of the fire and saw the rim of the bottle and fired. When the glass shattered the gas sprayed out and up it went.

WOOSH!

"Shoot the other one," Jim directed at the second bottle. When it went up they got a better view of what was coming at them. Shambling figures, mutated, degrading, skin falling off the bones. Their moans were becoming louder by the second until it became a drowning drone that people had to shout to one another to be heard even if they were shoulder to shoulder.

For now they were holding but always wanting to have a fallback plan Charles climbed onto the roof top of the barn and began to raise anyone on the net. Reading the laminated card with frequency and call signs on the inside of his floppy hat and as he went over raising anyone he saw the growing fire where Jim was hurling Molotovs. It had been thirty minutes since the opening shots, no telling how many zombies had already been killed but there were more coming. Before climbing p he inspected the lines, no one had fled but their barrels were becoming hot from continuous use. "Splash 'em with water." He directed to keep them cool. His attention shifted to the West where it seemed the ground itself was moving.

"Zulu Niner, Zulu Niner. Basco Six, over," the survival radio came to life.

"Basco Six, Zulu Niner, go ahead."

"We're Winchester on guns. Still have nap. Give us the coordinates and we'll deliver, over." Basco flight consisted of four Navy F-4 Phantoms. Peering through his NVGs that were constantly being washed out by the eruptions of fire he got a fix on the mass and began feeding the Phantoms their instructions when he was joined by Dwight holding tightly his fire ax that was smeared in dried, black blood. "What are we going do?" he yelled, "They're about to get over the West wall!"

"I'm gonna take care of that," Charles responded, "Get everyone inside the house and into the basement. Now!" Nodding the farmer hustled off. Running as fast as his legs could take them, going from position to position, Dwight began ushering everyone to run back to the house. Some were rather reluctant to do so, especially Oscar that took his empty shotgun, grasping the sweltering hot barrel and began whacking zombies heads whenever they appeared. Kevin saw one claw its way up the wall and was about to get to Oscar.

"Oscar!" Kevin shouted throwing down his weapon and running down the rampart that shook under his weight. He became a locomotive sweeping behind the distracted Oscar and collided with the undead figure and fell off the rampart to the ground eight feet below. "Kevin? Kevin!" Oscar began to search and found him below when Dwight came and told him to get inside.

"But Kevin…"

"Do you wanna die?" Dwight screeched.

Running down the rampart Oscar went for Kevin whom was flat on his stomach and needed to be hoisted to his feet. In their fall Kevin's massive frame had squashed the zombie that landed on a rock. It was dead when they hit.

"Come one, man. We gotta go," Oscar directed him towards the house.

"That. Was. Awesome," Kevin smiled along the way.

Jim looked around him, he could not see any more zombies in front of him, those one was flopping around blanketed by flames. None of them had made it to their section of the wall, due to their much smaller number still they were told to retreat. The trip flares burned out; cast in darkness a figure came up, "Zips are in the wire," the black figure said, "They're inside the perimeter. Get your ass to the CP. They gonna be dropping nap right on us." the figure shouted then ran off. They could not tell who it was. Not Dwight because of its harsh, nasal voice, too gruff for him and it was not Charles because he was still on the roof. Shaking it off the two hustled back to the house. On the way they glanced over at the West wall and saw dozens of hands reaching up over the lip of the wall.

Toby and his group retreated as well and saw three figures moving across their path carrying rifles. "Jim. That you?" Toby called out but the figures did not answer, just kept running. Making it to the house they locked the doors behind them and were next herded into the kitchen where Dwight ushered everyone downstairs. When Kevin and Stanley had difficulty moving down the flight fast enough Dwight began to shout and curse. Pam was in the lead but could not get the door open and everyone pressed against her trying to get in she was pressed against the door so hard it was difficult to breath. The weak knob broke and they pilled into the stone basement. Getting everyone in Dwight shut the door and moved several bushels of beets to block the door. "Wait!" Erin shouted, "Where's Charlie?"

He was up on the barn rooftop. Now undefended zombies began to break into the perimeter and walk into the plowed field. Seeing the perhaps thousands of undead slowly closing in on him it rang in his head that desperate times call for desperate measures. With the area cleared of friendlies, his adrenalin pumping and caught up in a tense moment the soldier clutched his carbine tightly in one hand and the survival radio in the other he looked at the mass on the mound creeping towards him. Pressing the transmit button on the radio, "Basco 6, be advised, Charlie's in the wire, over."

There was a moment of silence from the Phantoms, "Uh, roger that, Zulu Niner. We're at bingo fuel, over." Meaning they had just enough refuel to return to base, they could not linger any longer. They needed coordinates to drop their load.

Looking over his surroundings he had to be desperate, "Basco Six expend your ordinance on my POS. I again, expend your ordinance on my POS, Zulu Niner out." Releasing the transmit button his gaze was up at the night sky as the element of Phantoms came in low and slow. "You got it, boss," Basco Six said reluctantly knowing the meaning of it. Taking his element on a parallel course to the West wall. Dropping down to five hundred feet and chopping speed to ensure accuracy, they released just short of the perimeter wall and the silver tanks began to cartwheel end over end as they fell from the heavens. When they struck the ground the napalm went up as bright and hot as the sun.


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters to "The Office" they are owned by MSNBC. Charles is my creation.

It was hours sitting inside the basement with no air conditioning listening to the roar of the Phantoms that shook the building to its foundation. Dust knocked loose from the floor beams fell on their heads and shoulders then the ignition of the napalm sucked the stifling air through the cracks of the barricaded door then it became cool for a moment before the carbon monoxide built back up again. No windows forbid them to see what was happening outside with constant glancing at watches did they see that it was near six in the morning; the sun should be rising yet they were too scared to venture outside the door to see after witnessing the oncoming horde that they fought in near pitch blackness. They could be waiting just on the other side of that door waiting for them. A flash of blue light activated, a bright beam pierced the blackness and danced around scanning the many faces around. "Hank? Where the hell have you been?" Dwight asked.

"I've been here the whole time," Hank said rather surprised that Dwight was surprised because he told him to come here and not leave. Sitting inside the cramped room sitting on boxes and sacks of rice and flour with nothing to do except count the seconds Jim became restless and decided to leave. Immediately Dwight slid in between him and door, after stepping on Oscar along the way and demanded to know where he was going.

"I'm going outside," Jim replied rather bluntly staring into the bright lithium powered light in his eyes.

"Why? By yourself?" Dwight questioned as Jim continued to step towards the door causing Dwight to back up as well until he slammed into the barricade that was holding the door fast. "You know the orders."

"Yeah, well guess what Dwight."

"What?" Backing up further Dwight stumbled over a sack and fell onto his backside, the flashlight was lost from his grip and scooping it up himself Jim turned off the light and pocketed it. Removing the barricade blindly he managed to open the door and began the slow trek upstairs. In the narrow stairwell, taking each step carefully Jim could see that the sun's beams were illuminating the kitchen. Going up he felt something press against him from behind and looked over his shoulder to see Pam there clutching a baseball bat. She nervously smiled and together they went up further until Jim planted his foot into the kitchen. It was a mess when the women ran to get to the basement and there were no other souls. "Where's Charles?" they both wondered. Going to the door leading to the outside it was open and the air began to reeked of burnt flesh and something….they had never sensed before. Going onto the patio it was a wasteland. The napalm had scorched where the walls were and bodies were everywhere charred black or scattered bones. "Oh…my…god" they gasped, their words barely audible as they surveyed the scene, far too many bodies to count and they were covering the floor all the way up to the patio just below their feet.

"Cool," Dwight said surprising the couple that made them jump and turn. "This is just like Apocalypse Now."

Shaking his head light Jim continued on going down onto the land itself with Pam behind looking left and right at everything. The house and barn were still intact, that surprised them, one of the delivery trucks, one that had been used to block the entrance to the land, was gutted but the others were still able to work as was the small dozer. Pam squeezed Jim's wrist hard and made him look to the left to see a figure walking deliberately towards them, a rifle in one hand and a machete in the other. At first they did not recognize who it was. Rather haggard appearance, face was blacked by ash except piercing eyes and sweat soaked uniform. They did recognize the uniform and relaxed as the figure came up and stopped a few feet from them. Jim perked up and decided to say, "Charles you look like hammered shit."

To their surprise he replied, "Looks don't for shit in the jungle. This is 'Nam, baby," his lipped peeled back in a satisfied, sinister, smile. At first they were not sure if he was actually thinking he had snapped and was picturing himself in Vietnam but then he relaxed and removed his cover showing his buzzed hair that was singed.

"What happened?" Jim asked looking at all the bodies.

"Napalm" Charles replied.

Pam plugged her nose and went back inside the house as the smell was getting her. "Did…anything survive?" Jim asked. He knew they had survived but did anything, anything else, make it through the maelstrom during the night? Charles replied that he had spent the better part of three hours securing the perimeter, finishing off anything that made it inside the wall. The Phantoms had unleashed their cargo but flew off immediately afterwards lest running out of fuel over the horde thus they left the survivors to fend through the rest of night for themselves. The heat was becoming unbearable until a nice breeze picked up from the West and carried the smell away. "Let's get to work moving the bodies." Charles sighed slapping his cover back onto his head.

The other survivors gawked at the carnage around them. The charred bodies were unrecognizable and as the wind kicked up began to chip away black flakes that were their skin. At first they were reluctant to do so not wanting to touch the bodies and be contaminated, "Let's go people. We can't do anything until we get rid of them," Charles encouraged. Even burned bodies would be a health hazard and they needed the land cleared to grow any crop. The Napalm had scorched any plants around the perimeter making once light brown and green landscape turn oil like black. Wrapping their faces with wet handkerchiefs to staunch the stench the survivors came down and were organized into teams of three with Jim told to start up the Caterpillar dozer to begin making a mass grave. In order to do that the delivery truck that had been destroyed had to be pulled away from its position and Jim went outside the perimeter. The cage cockpit he was in would protect him from any marauding hands but he was told to stay close with a pistol on his lap. Moving perhaps 100 yards beyond the wall, well inside someone else's abandoned property he paused and looked at the West wall to see the signal from Dwight that it was far enough and to begin digging.

"Hey, Ryan." Kevin leaned in, "Looks like you burned the place down this time." breaking into a giggle, "Fire guy." It had been years since he accidently set a cheese Danish on fire in a toaster back at the office and still Kevin would not let it die. Rolling his eyes Ryan pulled himself away from the patio to go someplace else to be alone with Kelly hot on his heels. He was a non-factor in the engagement having run off to parts unknown leaving his partners Creed and Jim to their own devices that night but Jim did not cower and Creed, was in a different world.

Though the others were disgusted by the burned up, mutilated bodies, only one person seemed to bask in it with relish, "God I wonder how many bodies are around here. We should do what the Japanese did in China," Dwight chirped up clutching his dried blood spattered axe tightly. The others looked at his puzzled, silently ebbing him to go on, "They would collect two arms, two legs, and a torso and that would be one body…" and he was immediately shot down with disgusted groans. He made it sound so barbaric as if they were going to gauge their survival solely on body count. All that mattered was that all of them were alive and unharmed despite everything that had happened and that is what Darryl was trying to tell him but Dwight, so wrapped up in his idea, refused to budge.

Soiled from head to toe Kevin was still giggling as he walked with Oscar across the field and mimicked him like a child what Oscar had uttered in all the excitement in taking on the horde, "Hehehe say hello to my little friend."

Rolling his eyes Oscar merely dipped his head as they continued to walk, "Yes, Kevin. I get it." That still did not stop Kevin. Picking up a body that fell apart Oscar had to drop to one knee and was looking at this skull that had no eyes and asked, "If I hold my hand in your mouth would you bite me?" he was using it as a form of suicide to avoid Kevin's taunting. When the grave was deep enough Jim returned with the dozer to have it refueled then it was off to collect up the bodies.

Hank and Stanley were moved to the barn to keep a lookout as the others worked. No one could recall just why exactly it was those two but when Dwight came up to say he wanted Stanley he refused to budge and threatened Dwight to hit him on the head like a "whack a mole," leaving Dwight to wonder, "Can you do that with a fanny pack?" Climbing down from the barn Dwight began the lonesome walk back to the house where he saw Charles talking with Phyllis and Bob Vance whom were begging to know what had happened during the night. There was not much for him to tell. He was on the radio directing the Phantoms and when they expended their ordinance they were gone and he waited for the fire to do its work then climbed down and finished off any lucky survivors. When Dwight came up alongside Phyllis and Bob Vance excused themselves to go back inside leaving Charles with Dwight. "I counted three hundred and ninety one bodies," the Assistant to the Regional Manager proclaimed with pride.

"You counted that many?" Charles responded somewhat dismissive of such a high count could be calculated by him.

"Yeah, and I bet there are the same number out in the field," he went on, "Question, did you have something happen to you in Iraq?"

"No," Charles grumbled sitting on a bench to take the strain off his ankles. "Once we clear the land we have to repair or replace the wire. Also, we have to find some 55 gallon drums."

"For what?" Dwight asked sitting down next to him.

"Trick in Vietnam we would bury the drums full of napalm around the perimeter to fend off attacks. We can't rely on air support and Napalm would be a better deterrent against hordes."

Dwight disagreed somewhat with this plan. His knowledge of zombies showed that fire against zombies in the open was inviting disaster for the zombie did not die for some time as the fire consumed the dilapidated flesh then the muscles then cooked the brain thus if they were set alight and could still move they would be walking torches. However, napalm burned at a much higher intensity than straight gasoline and if they improved the outer wall to where it could not be scaled then they would be floundering down below and burn themselves out. "Old man Dilger down the road," Dwight confessed, "he has some drums. Our families have been rivals for years. They immigrated to this area around the same time as my family and began raising beets and my grandfather accused him of ruining his crop with salt. Hasn't ended since."

"A war over beets?" Charles asked.

"In our family; beets are more important than anything," Dwight said proudly. Eventually they agreed in the plan but it would have to wait until they cleared the area and allowed the people to rest. "They can rest when they're dead," Dwight said rather unconscious of the pain people felt gathering up what were human bodies including children. As they sat there Erin appeared from the kitchen and gave Charles a cold drink of lemonade.

"Where's mine?" Dwight asked rather bitterly.

"Oh sorry, Dwight," Erin replied, "I didn't know you were here." She waited as Charles began to hydrate himself. Able to moisten his tongue he smirked, "Danke." Meaning 'thank you' in German. Incensed by this Dwight glared at him and hissed, "Yeah? Can you speak more than just one word?" Charles glanced over at the farmer and spoke in a surprising South German accent, "Hallo dort, Idiot. Ich kann sprechen Deutsch wie Sie außer mit echten deutschem Akzent." Finishing off the rest of the drink Dwight looked on defeated. Behind them, inside the house Angela was at it again. No one knows what brought it up but what the others heard was, "I'm sorry, Pam" Angela replied, her words heavy in sarcasm, "I'm sorry that my Senator fiancé is so much better than your husband Jim. I'm sorry that my child has more intelligence that your little bundle of joy."

"Uh, Angela," Pam responded, "You don't have a child." And she actually began to second guess herself. Angela had been with a few men, Dwight, Andy, and this senator and…anything could have happened.

"Yeah, well, I don't but when I do have one it won't be a pathetic lump of an excuse to get mar…." Her words were suddenly cut off by a heated slap across the cheek. Turning to the right and staggering back then holding up a hand to cover the sore spot Angela stared with wide eyes and an agape mouth at Pam whom stared by in a mixture of surprise and anger. Angela quickly left the run and Pam turned towards an equally surprised Phyllis clutching the bag of chips tightly. "That…that…that was….oh my God" shivering as her blood pumped. Angela rushed outside of the house one hand holding the sore cheek right past Michael whom was hiding in the barn to avoid work but sooner or later he would have to come out because he was starving and only the house had food. Looking around to avoid running into people he sulked back to the house and by luck he ran into Jim whom had taking a break.

"Hey Michael, what's up?" one hand holding a bottle of water.

"Nothing, Jim. Just…uh…thinking about Jan," Michael sighed, hands thrust into his pocket rather casually as they walked towards the house.

"Really? But..I thought you broke up with Jan," Jim replied.

"I did, Jim. Wasn't pretty. I liked her but she was so…different," Michael replied with Jim nodding his head along with it, "She turned into a milf."

"A what?" Jim asked.

"Milf; Mother I Like to Forget. I just made it up," his voice becoming frustrated conjuring up memories of his past experiences with Jan including that she had a child that was not his and Jim felt ackward. In a moment he asked, "You think Charlie is a good boss?"

"Boss? Well, Michael…"

"You can say it, Jim. No need to soften me up. I know I'm a good boss, but is he better than me?"

Pausing for a second Jim thought for a second then said, "Michael I don't think he's better at it, I just think he's good at what he does as you are at what you do." He did not want to have to take sides. He knew all about Michael, what he has done, capable of, and what he has not done. "Besides we're here now…"

Michael cut him off bitterly, "Yeah, at Dwight damn beet farm. Beach would be better."

"You're right a beach would be better but where would we get food?" Jim asked.

"Polynesian girls with coconut bras serving us rum," Michael said.

"Polynesian girls?"

"Yeah, Jim. You think Pam would wear something like that when she serves us?"

"No, Michael" Jim bawked.

Oscar stabbed the tip of his spade into the soil and took the hat of his heat to let the breeze cool him off. He was thirsty and Kevin had stopped with his harassment. Angela came by with a beet red cheek grudgingly offering lemonade to the workers though she was still a prude. "Angela? Angela?" Oscar whispered and she looked at him with a stern "What?"

"You're…you're on my foot, man," he said meekly.

"Man? I'm not a man!" she shouted, "Don't call me 'man'," she was going to throw the last glass into his face. Letting out a sigh, Oscar had so much pent up frustration after being ridiculed by Kevin and nearly getting killed by the zombies and saving Kevin he did not want this petite, blonde haired little devil pushing anymore. They were not in the office anymore. Cannot be fired or even reprimanded so he let it all out, "Bitch, you're on my foot!" Flabbergasted and shocked Angela just turned and walked away and Oscar began to nervously laugh at himself and glanced over at Kevin whom was rolling around in the dirt unable to catch his breath and about to bust his gut laughing. Oscar, for once, felt liberated. "This…this is the best day of my life" Kevin rolled and Oscar agreed.

It was quiet out, the chorus of the undead silenced as the survivors picked through the remains and cleaned out the fields to reuse them. Now alone and allowed to think they began to contemplate how they would rebuild, who was left, who was gone. Those survival radios that had been dropped were being used by Charles to reestablish contact. His own personal radio he was one the horn with his friend in their safe house not too far away. With this one person he had a much more reliable link to information.

"Hordes are loose all through the state. Philadelphia is gone with a horde estimated to be a quarter of a million moving East," his friend said while they talked. This horde they faced was nothing compared to that and there was no way this small band could survive against that by themselves. They needed to build up, be better prepared. "I need you to run through some names for me," he said. He ended his conversation and turned it off to conserve battery power. After writing down the information on the same pad of paper he ended transmission but not before saying that the next communication will be at 2000 hours. Pocketing the radio he went to find the Jim and Pam finding them on the patio waiting nervously. Pam was pulling on her fingers, pacing back and forth with Jim standing by watching, "You keep that up you'll drill yourself into the floor." Pam kept going then saw Charles walking up and bolted down the small stairs towards him.

"Well?"

"Well, the good news is there are evacuation centers including the Naval Station in Rhode Island that had held out and she is on the horn with them. They have created a list of all their survivors."

"Really?" Jim bawked "How did they do that?"

"They're the government. They can do everything, and do nothing. One of the mysteries of the universe," Charles said. Pam kept eying him to tell them the news, "They are safe. They both made it to Newport two days ago." Before he could finish Pam was crying and throwing herself over Jim.

"They made it, Jim! They made it!" her cries of joy were heard all through the farm. She was now convinced they would see them again. "Oh, Jim they made it."

"This one didn't make it," Toby smirked as he pulled the severed hand of one of the ghouls from the wire and tossed it onto the pile. In this area where he and group fought they had assembled a neat little pile of dead zombies that had not breached the wall. Carrying a smirk he began stacking up the bones and some asked if he was alright, "I'm good. I'm good" actually satisfied with himself. "Hey they're already dead, right? So it's not murder." It made them perk up for it was an answer for a question that was not asked.

On the other side of the farm Hank was sitting on the roof, an open umbrella shielded his head from the rays of the sun reclining in a seat beside Stanley wearing sunglasses and sipping from a straw a drink of tea. "If we didn't have the zombies this would be a great vacation place," Hank sighed.

"Mmhmm" Stanley concurred.


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters to The Office. They are owned by MSNBC. I own the rest.

It was a close night. Zombies were scaling the walls; the survivors fought hard, sometimes going to the extremes they never thought was possible for them. In hindsight Oscar was astonished that he turned into a wild man, "Say hello to my little friend" and it made him chuckle as the last of the decayed and burned bodies were collected and thrown into a mass grave that Jim dug using a Caterpillar bulldozer. When it was done they retired inside the Shrute household to rest before resuming their repairs on their defenses. Oscar's hands trembled, blistered and red from use and his lips were chapped and bleeding. He was like the others, worn out, dried, and thankful to be alive for one more night.

One of the few not to be inside the house was Stanley whom was turning this into a vacation of sorts. No more paper company to be part of he sat under the umbrella on top of the barn kindly sipping on some tea, stretching his legs and watching the trees gently sway with the breeze and chuckled to himself at the irony for it was a vacation he always wanted and it had to be resorted to this to have it.

Able now to sit and reflect many of the survivors began to recount their fight during the night, of course Kevin would not stop with the endless jokes against Oscar, "Say hello to my little friend" laughing and giggling as they sat in the kitchen with Oscar, head in hands out of embarrassment now that the others heard this, "Yes, Kevin, yes." He would say trying to let it all bleed out and eventually Kevin would stop then came the spat he gave to Angela, "He said to Angela, 'Bitch get off my foot'!" and made the voice of Oscar sound loud and 'manly' and the others were at first stunned not believing that a rather quiet Oscar, whom would only explode when pushed hard such as when the cable guy would not show up on time, but against Angela, he always tried to avoid confrontations and the others began to laugh along with it.

Hank, the security guard, was walking around the perimeter, a shovel over one shoulder. He had removed his uniform top and the stained and sweat soaked under shirt showed he had been hard at work, trying to keep himself occupied rather than sitting down and reflecting. At work he was rather laid back, believing it to be only a way to pay the bills. Being security guard of an office park rather uneventful except maybe when Roy attacked Jim only to be deterred by Dwight's mace, and he was rather ruffled at Michael and now was stuck with him for what seemed to be permanently thus he tried to keep himself away as long as possible. With his shovel in hand he would go and find sags or holes in the earth wall and began to fill them up. His arms were sore and hands cut and blistered but he enjoyed it for it let out his anger and built up his muscles. Stopping to wet his mouth with a half filled canteen he looked at the barn where Moses was seen standing with a bag over his head, "Son, what is wrong with you?" shouting. Moses slowly lifted the burlap bag from his head until his eyes were visible, "You can see me?" Moses asked. "Yeah, I can see you" Hank responded. Moses appeared to be stunned, the bag was not working and he disappeared.

On the patio of the house Pam was overjoyed about the information that was passed that her mother and daughter, Cecelia, had escaped from Scranton. Now they wanted to go see them, but that was impossible at the moment then Pam asked if it were possible to use the phones that were dropped, "We can try, can't guarantee success," Charles replied knowing that Newport would be swamped with calls and only priority calls would be given preferences. It was better than nothing. Taking one of the phones into the open to gain better reception and turned it on and waited as the satellites were acquired then he pressed the numbers that had been written and laminated on the top of the phone. Waiting took a long period of time then they gained a signal and Pam grabbed the phone away and heard a voice on the other end. Pam was running up and down the field kicking up dirt where the zombies had been cut down, she ignored them and started to yell, "Cecelia Halpert….Cecelia….no, not Sylvia…." Signal was very weak, perhaps 2/5 and it at last cut out. Infuriated she threw the block phone onto the ground and stormed away running her fingers through her long brunette hair with Jim in pursuit to calm her.

Picking up and dusting off the phone Charles turned it off and used his own radio to acquire his friend not too far away. The sun was high overhead but some clouds kept the rays from being too intense and a light breeze was picking up from the North-West. When the bodies were buried and the garrison rested the next task was to repair their defenses.

Unable to sleep during the night; listening to the moans of the undead breaching the perimeter the people were worn out to continue. They were not military, but the office workers were learning quickly on how to adapt to their new hostile work environment. Sections of wire and tangle foot needed to be replied and the wall as well, the soft earth creating a hill but not a hill. They needed a more solid barrier, concrete but they did not have any and Darryl wanted to take another convoy out to see if any sites nearby may have it. Charles agreed but before they do that he wanted to see his friend in her safe house.

"We'll go by foot, recon the area," Charles said.

"What?" Darryl exclaimed in the kitchen, "Why foot when we got trucks?" and pointed to the window that had one of the delivery trucks sitting still and silent.

"We're going to areas that may be infested and engine noise will give us away. We have to be silent and avoid fights. Plan out some areas along with the safe house within a five mile radius and we'll scout them. If we find anything good and there is a clear route to it and out then we call for the trucks."

Darryl had to agree but it will be a hard march, even for five miles when they had not slept. "Those that are going get some rest. I need people that are coherent and won't nod off if we stop." Those going on the patrol were Charles, Darryl, Jim, and Dwight and they went the basement where cots were finally being put out for people to sleep. Before he could sleep Dwight was writing up a list of everything they would need and listed them in order of priority, with feminine hygiene products being last and contraceptives, "Why?" Jim asked reluctantly.

"We need to be able to reproduce and because we have good genes we can have a better society than we had before."

"What?"

Charles did not hear any of it and fell asleep wanting to get some sleep before heading out listening to Dwight decree that with the removal of all the "weak" and "unwanted" a better race could come from the ashes. The rest continued to work and there was also the mess of collecting the spent brass that could be recycled and the removal of the fuel tank from the delivery truck. The dock workers pulled it out and moved it to the barn. Erin was trying to keep herself busy by going outside and collect brass with the others. Kicking the dirt with the toe of her shoe she turned up the spent casings, pick them up, and dropped them into a plastic bag. Andy was with them and seeing Erin brought on a mixed emotion inside. He was with Gabe when he was bit and turned but since that time Andy wanted to talk to her but could not force himself to do so without embarrassing himself. "Listen…Erin," feigning a cough and moving in closer to her, "Ummm, you doing okay?"

"Yeah" Erin was surprisingly bubbly that stunned him.

"Really? Why so…." He went to ask but was cut off.

"Andy, we're alive. Don't you see? We could have been killed inside the office before we knew what was happening. We could've been zombies." A chill moving up her spine at the thought of being one of them and Andy was frozen himself for a moment and shook it off when Erin bent down and collected more brass where Toby's group was fighting and Andy could feel the twinge from the bud of jealously being planted inside him that would grow.

When Charles and the others in the party awoke after four hours they did feel better rested than before and sought to ready their gear for travel. Each one was to carry at least four quarts of water, seven magazines of ammunition for their rifles and six for their side arms, a utility knife as well as a hand to hand weapon that suited their tastes. Charles carried a long handled E-tool, Dwight still stuck to his fire axe with the others picking up the collapsible modern military e-tool. Before their departure Charles conducted a radio check with his friend and found she was still up and that the zombie presence around her perimeter was next to none. Satisfied Charles left the other radios at the farm after instructing the others how to use them. Dwight wanted to leave Angela in charge however Charles immediately shot it down wanting a more responsible person in charge and was in a paradox and Darryl recommended dock worker Michael to fill the void for their short departure. Agreeing to this the four did one last check of their equipment along with going over their route. Everyone was to carry a small map of the area with their main route along with alterate ones in case of the worst. Dwight knew of two companies that would have cement but did not know of their condition for they were small companies but it was the best shot they had. "No one is to go anywhere alone" Charles wanted to hone the rules that would keep them alive. "If you see one zombie wandering around far away, don't shoot it. Just leave it. Our goal is not to kill zombies but to recon and gather supplies." Nodding the four went to the 'gate' the burnt out delivery truck, and climbed the wall next to it. Before they went Jim gave Pam one last kiss 'I'll see you soon.'

The dirt road that led to the farm would kick up a large amount of dust if they walked on it, thus they stayed at least fifteen to thirty feet off, skirting it as they walked towards the main road. Because he knew this area Dwight was second with Charles at point Darryl third and Jim at the tail. Though strong Dwight's pace was constantly stymied by the others for their slower pace. Dwight wanted to get there fast but too fast meant they may overlook a hidden ghoul. When they reached the highway road they crossed it going down a steep incline that lead to a stream that was still flowing. By his calculations they had gone less than half a mile and the temperature was moderate, mid-eighties, with a light breeze moving through the thin trees. Their route was take them around settlements and directly towards the company, that meant crossing the stream. Moving carefully from tree to tree they approached and looked around. If they were to spot something they had to identify carefully and use hand signals instead of talking less they give away their position. With still full canteens there was no need to pause here and fill them thus Dwight crossed first. Jumping across and splashing in some mud he kept on up the slight slope beyond and came back a moment later with the 'all clear' and Charles went next. The last two Darryl and Jim were about to cross when Jim began to feel the tingle in his body, hair on end, his senses were kicking up that something was amiss, there was someone here. Remembering the rule on weapon discharges he pulled out his E-tool, holding the spade up high, head scanning around. Darryl was behind him carefully looking to the right at the trees. The ground was strewn with a mixture of wet and dry leaves. The stream water soaked the ground along with the first fall of leaves then new fall had not yet been soaked; each step gave off a soft 'crunch' that made their blood pump harder.

A man came around a tree holding a double barrel shotgun. At this range they both be dead but the man did not fire, but clutched his weapon tightly, body hunched forward glaring his stained black teeth, "What are you doing here?" the man hissed. Frozen in place the two stared wide eyed as the man came out more. He was filthy, looked like a hillbilly with a flannel shirt soiled and ripped along the arms and black pants also shredded at the cuffs, nothing about him was clean except his shotgun and when Darryl tried to take a step to the side to get a better look the man jerked the shotgun, "Hold it! Not one more move." Obeying the command Jim still held on to his weapon whilst staring at the twin barrels just ten feet away. "What do you want?" the man demanded.

"We're just looking…." Darryl began to say calmly only to be cut off by the man.

"Hold your tounge you God damn, %#$(#!" This made Darryl angry but he held his content as the man looked at Jim and seemed to calm down. "What are you doing here?" asking again.

"We're…we're just trying to find our way through here," he said trying to avoid any mention of a safe house there might be more people in the area whom might be willing to kill in order to stay safe.

"Oh, yeah? Where you come from?"

"From…Scranton." To sooth him Jim lowered his hatchet and Darryl did the same but kept his hand around the pistol grip of his rifle, the safety was off but he did not want to use it unless he could not defuse the situation.

"Scranton?" the man let out a shrill laugh, "Scranton is gone. Gobbled down. Gone. Nothing left." His chapped lips pulled back showing a smile. "Where you come from?" asking again.

"We're from Scranton," Jim said again becoming scared and wondering where Charles and Dwight had gone and whether or not they had seen this crazed man whom advanced closer towards them. Brandishing his E-tool in one hand Jim held out the other "Hey, stay back." The man kept inching closer, body hunched forward, one arm moved and wrapped around his stomach, snarling, flashing his teeth. Jim could not tell if he was infected, wounded, or deranged but he kept advancing. "Come on, stay back," voicing rising to alert the others that he was in trouble.

"Yah!" the man lunged forward with both hands and Jim swung hard out of reaction and felt the steel face of the slice into the temple of the man whom fell forward. In his swing Jim closed his eyes and yelled and opened when he felt the heavy body fall onto his feet, twitching as the blade sliced into his skull. It twitched then stopped and for a moment Darryl and Jim just stared at it wild eyed. He had killed a human being. Zombies were different; they were already dead. This man was not. Who was he? Where did he come from? Darryl knelt down to check him when Dwight and Charles came back and Jim asked where they had been.

"We saw the whole thing" Dwight confessed easily, "You had it under control. You're a warrior now," Dwight began, "You should take off his skull and drink from it like the Aztecs did that way his strength becomes yours."

"No, Dwight," Jim said bitterly as they resumed their march.

"You're still a warrior and have proven me wrong," Dwight said, "I salute you as such" and placed the face of his fire axe in front of his face in a form of salute. Jim, wanting to just resume and get this over with nodded and gave a quick Eagle Scout salute. There was no time to bury the man, instead they moved him to the base of a tree, crossed his arms over his chest and covered him in some leaves. Rather inglorious funeral but they had to keep going. Jim looked at the man with his sagging skin and hollow eyes and could not shake the fact that he was alive when he was killed at least here, where he was, it was peaceful with only the tweet of a bird heard in the distance.

Slugging one for an hour they came across some houses in the distance that appeared in tact but this was not their goal and did not want to bother anything. High property fences were also intact, this was a benefit, if chased they could jump over them and the ghouls would have a difficult, if not impossible task of trying to get through. Using his compass and map Charles began to become enlightened when they neared the safe house. Coming out of the forest they had to climb up a slight incline that was studded with thick trees and here he stopped and used hand signals telling the others to get down. Crawling on his stomach across the grass he reached the crest and moved to a tree stump to break up his outline on the crest and looked through his binoculars at what the others did not know. In a minute he came back down and told them he was going to cross the small field to scout and for them to stay here until he gave the signal to cross. Leaving the others and moving cautiously, carefully scanning the area for movement. When he reached the other side and paused, listening for movement, he went on, disappearing into some shrubbery.

Dwight looked over at Jim whom was still visibly shaken by what happened at the stream. "It was him or you and you were faster." Dwight said trying to reassure him what he did was right, "Survival of the fittest." Jim did not think of it that way. He viewed that man, though deranged, as a human being just like him; scared, alone, family perhaps gone he wanted to survive like them and Jim killed him. Looking down at the dried blood spattered E-tool Jim felt a pit in his stomach growing wider and forced himself not to look but he could not cast the weapon aside, might need it later. When Charles came back he used his radio to communicate with his friend. She was on the other end saying that the perimeter was clear and to 'come on in.'

Hunching forward and feeling their way through the shrubbery on the other side, thorns smacking them across the face and hands making dozens of small, sharp cuts across the skin, they made it through and were presented with a high cinderblock wall topped with razor wire.

"This is it?" Darryl asked rather surprised for it looked more like the outside of a prison.

"Yep," Charles nodded whispering as he beckoned the others to follow along side. The entrance was around the corner, a wrought iron sliding gate. Glancing up Jim could see a metal pole with small security camera encircling its peak and there was another on the opposite corner down the wall. "That's some security." Looking around the area, it was clear, no bodies, a far cry from what they thought it would be, a sea of undead constantly lapping at the walls. It was odd, quiet; Charles reached the control panel for the gate and found that the power was still on. Good, that meant she was using the hand powered generator and tapped in the code for the gate to unlock.

Click.

The others felt elated that there was something still working out in the middle of nowhere and when the gate slid open just enough for their frames to fit inside they filtered in one by one then Charles hit the cancel button on the console on the other side and had the gate closed.

"This is your place?" Jim said rather astonished. Before him was an elevated home at least 2,500 square feet flanked all around by the tools of survival. An above ground water storage tank that could hold 5,000 gallons. In the corner was a aluminum shed that would have tools both hand and powered and there were beautiful gardens and trees in bloom all bearing their crop and wrapped around them was a twelve foot high cinderblock wall and Jim remembered that it was reinforced by steel rods and in with the wire was broken glass that was planted with wet cement to deter human attackers. This was some place, they were prepared for everything. The front door flew open and out came a woman that threw her arms around Charles and began laughing, ecstatic that someone had survived and was there with her. Calming down a bit she looked at the three men with Charles. "Who are they?" Introducing themselves Charles informed that the other members were holding out at Shrute farms not too far away and that their set up was somewhat better than there for they had forty acres of farming land to raise crops compared to their backyard, however the crops she had were about to be harvested whereas the others had yet to be sowed. Looking this woman over she was a long haired dark brunette with gray eyes, nice figure, perhaps in her mid-twenties with plush cheeks and a good figure she was dressed in OD bottoms and boots with a green undershirt and hair in a pony tail.

"Is she your sister?" Darryl asked.

"Oh no," she laughed, "We're just friends." Turning to Charles she asked, "Where's your truck?"

"Some idiot hit me in Scranton but we salvaged the trailer and all the equipment," Charles replied heading to the garage that sat beside the house. It was elevated as well and the drive way had the incline to meet it. To get inside Jennifer directed them to a side door was locked. Using a key they went inside where a fluorescent light flashed on and there sat a green Ford F 150 pickup truck, intact, with a full tank. "Yeah, baby" Darryl laughed in excitement.

"How are your weapons?" Charles asked.

"Pretty good. Only used my pellet rifle on a annoying cat but that's it," Jennifer said as the new arrivals looked at the interior of the garage. They had so much, there were fire arms from shotguns to assault rifles to ropes of all types and length and teeth to make grappling hooks, it was Bert Gummer's house. "How could you afford all this?" Jim asked.

"We made most of it" Jennifer said pointing to the piles of blankets sitting in a corner covered in a plastic wrap to keep out dust and bugs, "We made all those blankets and we even made our own ammunition. It's cheaper than buying and I don't like buying stuff from China," she scoffed. This couple seemed to have thought of everything; procurement of food, fuel, living quarters, weapons, the whole shebang, the only thing they were not planning for was company. It appeared to be a better living environment than the farm however; again, there was not enough living quarters for everyone that was picked up inside the office. Dwight was not going to relinquish his family's farm however Jim and Darryl really liked this house. There was not a way to link the two settlements at the moment except ferrying vehicles back and forth; however they had the limit fuel stocks to think about. Shrute farm was more suitable for raising crops to sustain them however the safe house was better in defense. Charles opted to stay with Jennifer and have the others go back and inform the others as to what has happened that they did locate a survivor and a good place to live and that they could use their truck.

"I get to drive!" Dwight eagerly shouted.

"No" Darryl snatched the keys away, "I do."


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters to The Office. They are owned by MSNBC. I own the rest.

Before the group could head back they tried to raise Shrute Farms on the survival radio. Pam's voice came in crystal clear. "You made it!"

Their conversation went to how their safe was compared to this 'fort'. It's actually nice," Jim said pressing the transmit button his mic. "They have everything. It makes Dwight stuff look like child's play."

"That's great, Jim," replied Pam on the other side. She was overjoyed listening to him, knowing that they made through to another safe house, that someone else had survived all this. It was not her mother or child, but it was someone else, someone reliable according to Charles.

"Only problem is they don't have enough room for everyone, it's rather small," Jim frowned.

"That's okay," Pam replied, "I'm just glad…" she began and noticed out of the corner of her eye someone lumbering into the room. Flicking her eyes up there was Stanley and she released her thumb from the transmit button, "Stanley are you okay?" There was no reply, just a moan, and her heart started to race. Did Stan turn? Did he somehow get bit and changed? Pam reached for a club she kept on the table close by.

"Pam? Pam?"

"Hang on, Jim" she hurriedly said dropping the mic onto the table face and wrapping both hands firmly around the narrow neck of the club. Slowly shuffling into the room came Stanley, his face was pale, eyes closed along with the mouth, and he looked terrible, sick, "Stanley?" Going through her mind she treid to process what could have happened. Cleaning up the bodies, could a jagged tooth caught his hand and passed the infection? Did he already have it back at the office when it all began and maybe passed it on to everyone? He did not come for her, instead, inch by inch, made for the table then collapsed in a heap with his face smacking the back of a handmade chair.

"Stanley!"

Phyllis came moments later and helped Stanley onto his back. "It's his diabetes" she said confidently. Knowing him, sitting in front of him at work for many years, she knew Stanley better than anyone else in the office. He suffered from diabetes and she sent Pam go find his insulin. Insulin needed to stay cool but Pam went looking in the luggage not a fridge, "No, girl, the fridge!" Phyllis called to her. Turned about Pam went running back into the kitchen to find it and began ripping cartons and bottles out onto the floor in a feverish attempt to find the vials and came up empty handed. "Orange juice!" Phyllis cried out.

"What?" pausing and looking back.

"If you can't find it get some orange juice!"

"Okay" Pam's foot tapped a carton on the floor. Orange juice! Holding it up, ew pulp. Coming to Stanley's side Pam as Phyllis sat him up and pried open his mouth, Pam ripped open the cardboard and they slowly poured mouthfuls of the liquid. "Come on, Stanley!" Phyllis pleaded as he slowly took it in. Slowly, he came back, replying in moans. It had the desired effects but it was not enough. They needed insulin and with a party out Pam handed the carton over and went back to the radio raising Jim with an emergency errand.

She cried, "Jim? Jim! Listen. Stanley's about to go into hypoglycemia shock. He needs insulin. Do you have any over there?"

A moment's pause he came back, "No, but Jennifer said there's a clinic down the road from here. They may have some."

"Great. Get some. Hurry," her pleas were forcing tears to form in her eyes and Pam tried to fight them back.

"Okay, I will," Jim replied.

Going back to the dining area Phyllis was holding Stanley upright, gently feeding him orange juice when Erin came in hearing the noise. "What's going on?"

"It's his diabetes" Phyllis replied.

Dropping to her knees beside the gurth of Stanley Erin peeled back the eye lids and looked into his pupils and held his hand. She was greatly worried, she herself suffered from seizures, Erin knew what it was like having medical handicaps and did not want Stanley to go this way. "Hang in there," saying in a whisper to which Stanley let out a soft moan.

Those outside the house did not know what was going on, With one party absent that left the smaller defenders left to keep up the work to solidify their position. With Stnaley unknowingly on the edge the others labored to keep themselves busy and safe from the zombie plague. Having removed so many bodies and dumped them in a mass grave they picked through what was left for anything of value. A wallet with twenty dollars, a gold ring, some burned remnants of photos. Piled into a cart Oscar pushed it from placed to place with Kevin looking at the photos, "Wow, she's hot" looking at a blonde cheerleader and looking at the back, "Casey" smiling with his thin lips, "Nice."

Rolling his eyes Oscar picked up a severed hand with latex gloves protecting his and dropped it into the cart. "Help me out Kevin." Pocketing the photo Kevin went to work. He noticed the the diminishing weight on his gurth and was amazed then strived to keep it going and perhaps be rid of it entirely and have a much more appealing figure. "I remember this one girl in high school," Kevin said, "She said she would date me if I was the last man on Earth. Bingo."

Slowly starting to come around Stanley was helped by Bob Vance into a chair where he continued to sip on juice. "There you go," Phyllis smiled when the door burst open. Jerking there heads about to meet it in came a shrieking figure, a axe held above his head. "Die!"

"Michael don't!" everyone screamed reaching out to stop their boss in his charge, Bob Vance moved his massive body in his path and grasped the shaft and after Michael recoiled after colliding with him Bob Vance ripped the weapon away Michael pointed at the prone body shrieking, "He's a zombie!"

"No, he's not. He needs insulin." Phyllis said. "Why didn't you tell us you needed insulin, Stanley?"

All he could reply was a tired moan.

"Huntin' around, store to store, looking for supplies. It's the staple of every zombie movie," Dwight said when the truck pulled up to the clinic Jennifer had suggested. Windows and doors were intact, a lone sedan sat on the far side of the parking lot. Other than that it was empty. "Keep a look out," Charles told Darryl at the truck. Approaching the front door instead of bashing it in he merely reached out and tugged on the door handle, it slid open smoothly.

"Convenient," Dwight said. They went in, insulin was their prime objective but they will take everything else they can. Weapons in one hand and an open palm in the other the group went about collecting bags full of supplies and threw them into shopping carts, gradually making their way towards the back where there was a pharmacy and refrigerators, that is where the insulin would be. Waiting outside Darryl kept the window up, engine rolling, and one hand on his weapon with Dwight waiting by the front door. When a full cart was rolled his way he would load it into the back that way Darryl would not be alone. Power was still on, that was good, and the insulin would stay usable. The store was empty of souls and after loading up everything the group departed. It was an easy raid now they plotted a course taking them back to Shrute Farms.

When the vehicle arrived back at farm the people came out with joy and they asked where they managed to find such a thing. "Yeah, looks like there's another place with fresh fruit and clean water and green grass…" Jim said to Pam, "But they don't have enough room for everyone."

"Oh, well" Pam began, "but at least someone else made it through."

"Yeah, I know" Jim smiled, "and they have more stuff to help us here." One of the great creations also brought with them was a regular radio, the one at the office they left behind because of the surprise attack and those inside the vehicles could not be heard by many at once and it would drain the batteries. No, the defenders were bolstered by what supplies Jennifer could give at the moment including fresh fruit and medical supplies. Taking the radio from the back Jim carried the contraption inside and checked the batteries, brand new from the box, turning it on there came the hiss and static as it read a frequency. Others came in and sat down on the homemade furniture to listen as Jim slowly moved the dials across the board picking up static and then found, by dumb luck, a voice. A voice at last! It was a man and it was not a computer!

"_There is no cure for this infection and there is no known source. What has been learned that the illness spread through the poor districts of many major cities and then thrived to large density areas such as downtown districts and on public transportation."_

"Well, that's good news" Jim scoffed turning away from the others. His mind was troubled. Though putting up the façade of a great raid that saved Stanley's life he was still plagued by the man he beat down in the woods. It chilled his body and a pit formed in his stomach. Pam noticed him and together they went upstairs to talk in private.

The radio went on: _"The military has formed safe zones at the many harbors and are taking in civilians. The president has asked that those wishing to seek these safe havens approach with no weapons and no baggage. Follow the instructions of the guards and you will be allowed in with a shower and good food…."_

As appealing as it was with hot food and shower the only thing preventing them was what the first message was, the sea of undead. Though heavily arms and with wheels they could not blaze a trail through them as Moses did with the Red Sea. Oscar prayed in his room for guidance as everyone settled down for the night. Come morning they gathered for a 'meeting' that was called by Charles. Wedging themselves inside the dining room he called for everyone's attention.

"Jennifer has asked for me to return to our safe house and she is opening the door for anyone here that wishes to go with me." There was a moment of silence and they whispered to each other. Dwight, slowly inching himself closure to the soldier eyed those that appeared to have the look of wanting to leave. Fresh fruit and hot water, very appealing, and there was little work they would have to do, the walls have already be formed and supplies gathered compared to two days hence they went about their work, rotating in shifts of four hours in building the outer walls, sewing the fields, gathering water, and keeping busy. Charles gave one of the survival radios to Dwight and kept the other for himself. They had maintained contact with the harbor in Rhode Island where Pam's mother and Cecelia have found refuge however because of their limited resources they could not pluck them out of this place. At last, the power grid collapsed along with the water pressure, Scranton had gone dark and the only way on radio contact was by the radio Charles used to contact Jessica's HAM radio, and the survival radios dropped by the military, no cell phones or land lines and did not matter for it seemed that not another soul was present for a hundred miles. That was enough to compel Pam to go to Jennifer's place.

As the sun was just above the horizon two trucks were being loaded with people and their belongings. Pam, Jim, Darryl, Erin, and Oscar wished to go with Charles; Erin spent the night walking around the front lawn by herself lost in thought with Oscar praying for guidance, though he had not done so in years and they both came to the same conclusion. It was a slow process, everyone bid their farewells to each other.

"I'll miss you," Oscar smiled to Kevin before giving a firm handshake.

"See ya, Oscar. Oh, let me know if this Jennifer is hot," Kevin replied.

"Yeah, I'll do that," Oscar smiled. Angela was there with Kevin and he wanted to say something to her but the blonde went first.

"Good-bye, Oscar," she said bluntly, arms crossed, turned and walked away. No emotion except contempt.

Phyllis and Pam hugged as two sisters, "I'll miss you," Phyllis said, "Give me a call if you need anything," winking.

Darryl and dock worker Michael shook hands, "My man," they called each other and tapping shoulders with their own. Very manly. Erin climbed into the cab of the truck and saw Kelly eagerly waving farewell. Rolling down the window and waving back, "Bye Kelly, I'll miss you," she replied full of heart. Even though they had their differences and a lot of fun Kelly thrusted her arms around Erin and hugged tightly, "Oh my god I'll miss you!" and it took a lot of tapping on Kelly's vice grip arms to release her.

Dwight though watched them, he knew that with Charles gone he would effectively take control of the group. This was his family's property and though the people with him were not slaves they would have to follow his orders to stay alive and a smile slowly crawled across his sun kissed face. Before the group departed Dwight heard his name being called from the barn. Approaching it there was Michael.

"Well," Michael said with a sigh of relief, "Looks like they're leaving. I'll miss them, but now we can take back control. With him gone I can take back this group and hopefully salvage something…."

Dwight immediately interceded, "Why do you get to take charge? Why can't I? I have more knowledge of zombies in my hand than you do in your entire body."

"Yeah, Dwight, but you can't lead," Michael said.

"Yes I can. I'll start conscription," Dwight nodded.

"Wha…con…how the hell are you going to do that with just a few people?"

"Easy, make it mandatory," shrugging his shoulders.

"Oh, god, Dwight…."

"Michael, this is my family's land. I own it now and the people here, they don't think you can fathom the role of leader in such a situation. Thus, I am taking control."

He was defeated, however, Michael still tried one last grasp attempting to strike for Shrute's loyalty bone, "Dwight, I think you need to think, long and hard, about where your loyalties lay," Michael said not bothering to look at the German in the eyes as he talked, instead resting his hand somewhat dramatically on the rail of the patio attempting to release all his frustrations to flow out through that way and rubbing his forehead with the other.

"I already decided, Michael," Dwight replied sullenly and Michael turned about with a smile.

"Well, good, Dwight, glad you see things my way,"

"No, Michael," his reply jerked Michael and made a cold chill roll down his spine, "I don't."

"What? Come one Dwight. You're my right hand man."

"Yes, but not anymore. Michael your ideas and complacency have nearly cost us our lives many times. You joked about my preparations and give me no credit when it succeeds plus, I find you completely inept in leadership."

Stammering for a second Michael could not come up with anything in response and finally coughed out, "I'm the regional manager…"

"Not anymore, Michael," Dwight cut him off, "Dunder Mifflin doesn't exist anymore. We are on our own."

"I'm giving you one last chance, Dwight. Join me…" he began but was cut off by the shaking of Dwight's soiled face.

"I'm sorry, Michael, I'm afraid I can't do that."


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters to The Office. They are owned by MSNBC. Italics denotes talking head interviews.

It has been four days since the group of survivors separated into two. Dwight said it was the splitting of the Fellowship, but they were connected by their survival radios. Thus far there had been no undead in the area but there was also no contact with any other survivors, even the link to the Rhode Island Harbor sanctuary was intermediately lost and there was worry that it was overrun only to have the link reestablished later and be lost again. It was becoming increasingly frustrating to the point that Pam almost pitched the survival radio only to have it wrestled away by Jennifer. Having new faces around Jennifer was at first shy but warmed up to them and seemed rather attached to Pam. Never having a sister Jennifer always wanted one and seem to find it in the former receptionist. Darryl and Jim found a great place to spend time in front of the garage where a basketball hoop was erected above the garage door. Shedding their shirts they spent hours taking shots as the girls looked on with smiles and licking lips. Erin went through the garden and her nose took in the smell of fresh greens. There were cabbages, onions, potatoes, and even carrots about to be plucked. One of the chores she was given was to tend to the garden and to the trees and see enjoyed being outside, under the shade of the orange trees as the sunlight warmed her body after a night time rain. It was peaceful here, a bird chirped from a high branch giving off a song, her eyes glanced up to see it spread its wings and fly over the cinderblock wall. "Goodbye little birdy," she said giving a little wave. For those two days it was peaceful, somewhat of a vacation. Less work than at Shrute Farms because most items were already in place prior to their arrival. Jim and Pam were sitting in the kitchen, enjoying a hot cup of coffee with real cream and sugar when Charles entered a rifle slung over his back. Watching him go by Jim said, "Living here, with Charles and Jennifer is somewhat better than living with Dwight. Everyone has chores to do but here we got to choose whereas Dwight would have no choice." He was correct.

On Shrute Farms several members of the staff and dock workers were on their hands and knees sowing the fields to plant seeds, Kevin moaned, "I shoulda gone with Oscar."

Jim continued_, "They taught us how to use guns so if worse comes to worse we can use them. From what I know about Dwight and of Charles…they're teaching methods are as different as black and white."_

BAM BAM BAM

Going down a line of prone bodies Dwight, a dowel rod in one hand resting against his shoulder, had everyone on line for firearms training that they could not pull off whilst at the office. "Hank!"

BAM!

The paper target one hundred feet away had a neat hole punched through in the chest. "Good! Aim higher, he's a zombie. Remember that." Going further, "Angela! You're next."

The petite blonde raised her head and looked back at him with a look of disdain on her face, "Dwight, I don't like guns. I refuse to be part of this!"

"Shut up, Angela!" he yelled back. "You've been drafted into service!"

"Dwight, women are not included in the draft," she replied but he did not pay heed. This was his version of basic. He made it mandatory for everyone to take part in weapons training four hours a day starting one day with rifles second with pistols then knives and blades then hand to hand combat. When hand to hand day came Dwight took the group out into a unsowed field with soft earth to be used as an arena, formed everyone into a hollow square and began the course, "School is now in session" he announced with pride. "I need a volunteer." When no one stepped forward immediately dock worker Michael finally gave in only to have Dwight wave him off, "No, Andy" he pointed towards the reluctant office worker, "Get in here."

_Dwight: I need a number two. For years I've been Michaels number two, now I'm number one and I need a two. Michael would be the logical choice but he has proven to be entirely inept when it comes to zombies, thus, I have to find someone else and if I can't find one, I'll make one. Michael was soft when it comes to being a leader so; these people are going to learn what's like to be hard."_

Andy stepped into the ring, having shed his jacket and his shoes and socks he still held up a smile yet inside his stomach was rumbling. Since arriving at the farm he had eaten and drank little, he had lost ten pounds and only becoming thinner, bags hung under his eyes and his mouth had blood from his gums. No one had taken notice as Andy stood before Dwight with arms out, "Hokay, what do you want?"

"I'll show how to do a headlock" Dwight said.

"A head lock?" Andy replied dropping his arms, "A head lock? How's a headlock going to work on a zombie? The dudes don't breathe."

Shrugging off the questions Dwight directed Andy to stand in the center and face out and relax. Stepping behind him the German wrapped his right arm across the front of Andy's neck, the elbow resting over the Adam's Apple and the hand rested on the elbow of the left arm that was held up to the side of Andy's face. Just a little bit of pressure from the bicep and Andy was feeling different as the blood was slowly beginning to be denied to his brain. "Dwight….can't…breatheeeee" his vision was graying out then his arms went limp, all in just eight second. Letting go his body Andy fell to the dirt and people feared that he was dead. Looking around at all the shocked faces Dwight pointed, "Kelly, you're next."

At the same time Charles had called his group together for hand to hand combat. "You have to be prepared for any attack. Zombies are not the only ones out there." A rule he has said many times hoping it would drill itself into their heads. Guns cannot be wholly relied on. If their ammunition ran out or jammed they had to use back up weapons and then themselves. It was a good day outside. The sun was up in a near cloudless sky, warm, and a light breeze was spilling over the high walls into the compound cooling their skin. On a soft green patch of grass Charles called everyone together to show how to use simple techniques to put a person down but not kill. To demonstrate his point he asked Darryl to take a shot at him with a punch. Nodding Darryl obliged by thrusting his right fist forward. Using his left arm Charles got under the punch by deflecting it upwards exposing Darryl's armpit and gave a tap showing how easy it is to deliver a good shot. "A hit to the arm pit will do a lot of damage." Hearing 'arm pit' they chuckled. To show more examples Charles asked Darryl to put him in a headlock. Having several inches in height over the soldier Darryl could have pinched off his head with no problem in a real fight. Wrapping his right arm across the man's throat he did not apply pressure and waited. Charles said, "Observe" and flicked his head backwards and Darryl flinched for the back of Charles' head came within an inch of his forehead, a hit like that would have dazed him and as he was phased for a that split second Charles brought back his left foot behind that of Darryl's and pressed back with his body and down the dock worker went onto the soft grass.

"Wow, that easy?" Pam said.

"Yep" Charles nodded. Through the next hour they showed various take down techniques and then had everyone pair up to try them personally. Pam naturally picked Jim and Darryl picked Oscar with Erin getting Jennifer.

"Alright, folks, one is the aggressor the other is the defender. Now, defend yourself!" clapping his hands. All three pair went at it with various degrees of effect. Pam and Jim rather pitter pattered bopping at each other and laughing. Pam lightly punched Jim's stomach, "Oh, I so got you!"

Jim retaliated by patting her head with his wife smiling, "Oh, it's so on!"

Next to them Erin was shying away from Jennifer's advances. "Come on," Jennifer said, "I'm not going to hurt you."

"I'm scared. I don't like to fight," Erin replied sheepishly.

Dropping her fists Jennifer sighed in frustration, "Look, Erin, you can't keep being scared. You have to learn how to fight. You can shoot an' all but you have to learn to watch your back." It took a lot of coaching but eventually Erin brought up her hands and began to knock away Jennifer's punches. As they worked together, the receptionist's confidence began to grow.

Next to them Oscar was as reluctant to be standing toe to toe with Darryl, "I don't want to hurt you" Oscar said lowering his head.

"Yo, dude, don't worry about it. Jus' practice. Come at me," Darryl smiled. Oscar nodded and when Darryl took a swing with his right hand Oscar got under it, tapped Darryl's arm pit, and placed his foot against the back of his knee. A little push the knee bent and Darryl went down. Quickly straddling him by the stomach Oscar, blood pumping, brought his right hand back to deliver the final blow. He did it! He brought down a much bigger foe!

"Oscar?"

"Yeah?"

"You can get of me now" Darryl replied.

"Oh, sorry" Oscar replied getting up and helping his 'adversary' to do the same.

"Good job, man," Darryl patted his shoulder.

_Oscar nodded with a full smile; I feel pretty confident now._

They kept this up for a few more hours before taking a break and heading inside to cool off. Erin was very upbeat knowing that she could at least do something if someone came at her as did Oscar.

Pam sat down at the kitchen table whilst sipping on some water, "I wonder what Dwight is doing right now."

"Probably doing the same thing we are" Jim said sitting across from her, his shirt pattered with grass and sweat stains.

Hearing this Pam smiled bringing down her bottle of water, "Yeah, if they were, how'd you think he would do it?"

_Jim: Knowing Dwight for years I learned how he operates and being with Charles and Jennifer how's that there is in fact an evil twin out there. Now, see, this is how the two differ. Dwight, well, he's very authoritative, he likes to be in charge and when he's not he tries to the right hand man so he's still above everyone else. He believes in the hierarchy structure, a chain of command and 'impressment' to get people to do things, and to his credit it has paid off in some parts, however, having Dwight in charge at work would only last as long as someone was actually looking after Dwight to keep him in line, and making sure no one set his office on fire while he's in it. Now, Charles on the other hand, well…."_

_Pam finished, "he's what Dwight would be…if he were sane."_

_Jim continued, "It's actually…pleasant" as soon as he spoke he felt odd. "Two weeks ago if you told me that zombies would take over the world I would call bullsh** but now….sigh, I guess Dwight was right, I should have taken him seriously." Jim shuddered as a cold chill crawled up his spine._

Come dinner time Dwight had everyone come inside, including Hank from his perch on the barn to have a hot meal. The only exception seem to be was Michael Scott. Withdrawing himself more and more from the group since being "deposed" he stayed in the barn wallowing in his tears.

Going to the barn to deliver Michael his food only to find Michael's blanket on a patch of straw. "Michael? Michael? Dinner time!" Usually the utterence of food would be enough enticement to bring the manager out, not this time. Looking around the barn from back to front and finding nothing Angela went back to the house. "Guys? I can't find Michael." There was no stir from those around the table. Giving up with them Angela went to Dwight as he peered out a window, "Dwight, I can't find Michael. I went to give him his dinner and..." shrugging her shoulders.

Going outside Dwight went into the barn, "Michael? Michael?" he then went about the entire perimeter and even checked underneth the house revealed nothing. "Dammit!" He should have kept Hank on watch. Damn dinner. Going back inside the rest were still eating dinner when Dwight called everyone's attention, "Michael is missing. I'm going to form a search party to go look for him." Looking up from their plates and bowls the survivors looked at Dwight then at each other before going back to eating. Michael Scott had flown the coop and few in the group seemed to care.


	13. Chapter 13

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters to The Office. They are owned by MSNBC. Italics denote talking head interviews.

"Michael? Michael?" Angela was calling out as she and a search party was looking for their AWOL companion Michael Scott whom had slipped out of Schrute Farms as the rest was eating. He had jumped the perimeter walls, leaving an obvious trail of foot prints, broken twigs, and then they found his wallet.

"Where can he go?" Kevin asked up to Angela whom shrugged her tiny shoulders. Moving through the woods one behind the others at five paces apart they, with the exception of Dwight, wore their bright colors because they had no other proper fitting clothes to blend in with their environments.

"He doesn't have water or food' Angela said, "I don't think he even has a weapon."

Behind her was Andy who said, "Yeah," picking through the thick underbrush and ducking his head under low hanging branches, "Though, I wouldn't worry about it. Chances are he will be running around in circles in here without a compass." He was basing his logic on thick woods ability to confuse the body's natural sense of walking in a straight line. Without a good point of reference the dominate leg of the body would take over and without their knowledge one can walk in a large circle. He held inside that they would find Michael cowering at the base of a tree a few hundred meters inside the woods, tired, hungry and they would be back at the farm before dark.

"Michael! Michael!" Angela called out whilst still progressing deeper into the woods.

"Angela, be quiet, zombies can hear you" Andy hushed.

Zombies? Out here? They could be anywhere. It takes just one that is what they kept telling themselves. It takes just one to ruin their day and if they were bit Dwight would not waste his time and put a bullet between their eyes. No remorse or hesitation, if you were bit that was it. With such a small group losing one would be a serious blow to their overall strength but in Dwight's ideology; survival of the fitness. If you bit then you were weak and deserved what you got dealt.

Walking point Dwight held a compass in his left hand and reading it from the hip. It would not be a pinpoint straight line but it was better than the time consuming method of constantly shooting a reference point with the compass or going blind. Knowing the land well, Dwight opted to take his compass just in case, but after walking around for an hour they had gone beyond what he had originally known; now they were approaching a thirty meter tall rocky outcropping that they climbed, though throughout this entire search Ryan was bickering, at the tail of the column, with himself at being selected to find Michael, a man that had been pestering him since first joining the company and it was constantly hinted that Michael may have a man crush on him and it creeped Ryan out. He did not want to be here, he wanted to be somewhere else, a warm beach in Hawaii or in California having the wave wash along the limitless length feeling the soft sand between his toes.

Kevin was having fun exploring the woods. It was cool and slightly moist here and with his weight dwindling he possessed more energy and eagerness that he had not known since he was a kid and when confronted by the hill, and wearing boots that had been dropped by the military, he went up like a monkey. "This is so much fun" he said smiling with his line lips.

Keeping his focus Dwight again picked up Michael's trail when we saw bits of his trousers clinging to the tips of shrubbery. His trail was erratic, now it was South-south-west, deeper into the woods and he was trying to remember what was in the area, some dominate point of the landscape that could draw everyone's attention then he remembered the Keystone Natural Gas facility. He saw it only once after it was constructed. It sat on a dome hill that had been cleared for three hundred meters all around by the company alongside a small stream. Many farms and land owners had protested its construction as a dangerous building if it went up. That, he figured, is where Michael would be going deducing it by the general direction of his trail, but what he did not understand was how Michael knew about it, perhaps his sixth sense was telling him.

Those that did not go on the search party were now actively deriding Dwight, his policies, and expressed their thoughts about what has happened without the fear of retaliation, though Mose was lingering around somewhere. Every now and again his head would appear in a window or in a corner but when caught he would run without saying a word. The same helicopters that dropped a supply bundle to Charles' group also flew over and dropped the same type onto Shrute Farms. Opening it up they looked through the contents and read the pamphlets with a mixture of confusion and wonder.

"Those that seek to exploit the conditions to our country by openly waging war against the United States government and its people will be considered traitors and be arrested and placed on trial and punished accordingly," Stanley read, "do not" he emphasized, "Do not attempt to seize government property, do not assist those that wish to carry out attacks on government personnel or citizens. Those that do will also be considered as traitors." Rather harsh. Reading the paper he dropped it onto the table and slowly sipped his coffee.

Since receiving word that Michael had flown the coop Charles his group at the house was rather indifferent about the development. They were too far away and in the woods, no sense of sending anyone from their meager group to assist but they said they would 'keep an eye open.' In Michael came stumbling towards their perimeter.

"Honestly, where can he go?" Jim asked to Pam as they were waiting for a turn at the shower where Erin was already ahead of them.

"I don't know," she shrugged, "Since this all happened…I think he just can't take it. I'm just afraid that if he snaps he may whip out a gun and shoot himself or someone else." Pam did not hate Michael but he was not a man she would trust to make difficult decisions especially under high stress such as this.

However, it was not all bad news. Not long after receiving word about Michael there was call on their survival radio that another pair of Blackhawk helicopters were on their way conducting a SAR, Search and Rescue. Because of their strong defensive position Charles's group was not in their sites, instead they were picking up individuals or small groups that had sought refuge on roof tops or hills who could not live much longer on their own. When the helicopters were overhead they kicked out another supply bundle that landed outside the fence. Bringing it back in the canister contained more of the same, ammunition, extra food, but also a plastic wrapped stack of leaflets that they were asked to hand out to other survivors if they encountered them. The military has improved since the beginning of the outbreak and for the first time compulsory service was implemented since Vietnam. There was a desperate need for people to fill uniforms, even women were allowed in. All National Guard, Active Reserve, and inactive Reserves were called in and even US Navy ships that had been set for the scrap yards were refitted and put to sea with the hopes of saving more people that had gathered along the coasts.

When Erin emerged from the bathroom, her head wrapped in a clean towel she felt refreshed. "To think that they would have to bathe in a tub in the backyard and filled with buckets," she said laughing it off. Shrute Farms had one bathroom under the porch thus they implemented this extra bathing facility and the women were told to bath here and, of course, they refused.

Reading one of the leaflets Oscar went over one of the guidelines that the government covered concerning criminals and secessionists. "If you capture criminals or secessionists in the act of committing crimes restrain and hold them until they can be taken in by proper military or law enforcement for trial. Do not fire upon them unless in self-defense of yourself or a third party. Do not assume the role of the court."

Oscar kept reading determining what they were trying to tell him. The courts were still in place the government was still trying to cling to their power and prevent it all from degrading to despotism and one of those methods was still holding to the rights afforded to them by the Constitution.

Organizing the canister drop there was a thick packet included that had a detailed map of Pennsylvania. Now that the government had been able to organize itself better they now could produce a map that showed assembly areas where people could go for evacuation as well as places to avoid the obvious being the large cities, Philadelphia and Pittsburg but also included was Scranton. Instructions were written on the back of the card, "This map is to be shown to all people wishing to seek government aid," Also included in the packet was a list of instructions in regards to their encounter with the military and law enforcement.

"When approaching a military position; announce your presence to the sentries and obey their directions. Empty your firearms and sling them and approach the perimeter with hands in the air. Obey all instructions that are given. Failure to do so the sentries will open fire. All weapons including firearms, blades, or explosives will be confiscated. Inform the guards if anyone in your group is ill or in need of proper medical treatment and also inform where you have been and where others have been seen."

Changing her clothes and dawning clean socks Erin came back to join Oscar, Darryl, and Jennifer in the kitchen. Jennifer had served a hot breakfast of tomato soup and grilled cheese, the tomatoes coming directly from the garden. It was creamy and sweet, better than the canned stuff and they drank fruit juice that they also made themselves. It was a vacation. Finishing her meal and cleaning her plate Erin glanced outside, at the forest, at it came back what was happening outside, biting her lower lip she said, "I hope that they find Michael."

Finding him was proving to be somewhat easy. Leaving an obvious trail was pointing to where he went but for a man that was inexperienced in nature and on his own he sure went through the woods rapidly. There was another hill up ahead. Going up first Dwight checked the summit to make sure it was clear, that is when he saw the natural gas facility in a gap through the trees. Dropping a rope to help the others help Dwight looked the place over with a pair of binoculars.

"Damn," he muttered. The site was overrun. The perimeter gate had several large gaps in it and zombies were lingering around inside and out with more being drawn in by their low chorus. The facility sat on the slight hill with a dirt trail going towards Dwight's position on the hill before hooking to his left and snaking off to an area he could not see. Just to the right of the turn there was a dip in the earth and beside it was a small rolling stream. Thus far the zombies did not know they were there but Michaels' trail also ended. It was a guess on where he could have gone. Sitting on the hill for ten minutes all they could see were zombies milling around until Kevin jerked his head to the right and pointed, "Hey, look, it's Michael."

Moving towards them along the banks of the stream, by himself, was Michael Scott, his lips were moving but they could not comprehend what he was saying. He was not observing noise discipline. If the zombies hear just one word they could turn and be upon him. He was carrying a heavy stick in one hand, holding it by one end and letting the other drag across the mud and rocks of the stream behind him.

"Michael, Michael" Angela whispered but she was too far away.

Dwight reached for his mirror to send a signal using the sun but the trees were thwarting his efforts. They had to find a way to reach him or to signal him about the danger and to move away so they could reach him.

Dwight began looking for a way to get down to him on foot, the slope was even steeper on the other side going down to the stream and going down this face Dwight was worried that they would be exposed to the zombies' unblinking eye thus he decided to go back down from which they came using the same rope was a ladder, go around the hill, and find Michael. It would take a while, maybe twenty minutes if they took their time, but it was the only safe way and he ordered it.

Before they could implement their plan the saw Michael doing something on the banks of the stream that seem to confirm their logic that he had finally snapped.

Removing his button shirt and hanging it on a low hanging branch he then removed his soiled and sweat encrusted t-shirt underneath, dipped it into the cool flowing water and then wrapped it around his forehead tying the ends behind his head.

His shoes and socks were off as well.

He then began dunking his fingers into the mud at his feet stroked the thick across his face. "This is my war paint," Michael said to himself, "I am one with Mother Earth. She is my shield, she is my face, and I am part of her spirit. With her guidance and using her as a weapon I will win."

"Has he gone mad?" Angela asked.

"I think he's gone past that" Andy replied.

"We have to get to him before he does something brash," Dwight replied as Michael rose up from the bank, tip toed through the brush, and began to move towards the facility.

"You there, the salesmen of death," he called out pointing the tip of his war club at his adversaries, "My name is Michael Scott. I'm a warrior of mother Earth…"

Holding his club up on high Michael's shrill voice punched out, "Leeroy Jenkins!" and off he went.


	14. Chapter 14

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters to The Office. They are owned by MSNBC. Italics denote talking head interviews.

A party was out prowling for the missing Michael Scott yet for those that were left behind at both the Shrute Farms and those of the safe house belonging to Charles and Jennifer they were at ease. Dwight's overbearing was absent even for the shortest of times allowing the others to relax and enjoy the sins of complacency that would brought a stern admonishment from the German. His blood, Cousin Mose, would hover and watch at a distance, yet when sighted, would immediately run away. Such as when Andy and Toby were walking through one of the fields where their first harvest was coming in rather nicely yet it would require at least two months before they could harvest them but the food they now possess is more than adequate.

Stopping in their walk and slowly removing the straw hat from his head Toby imposed a question on Andy, "You think they'll find Michael?"

"Maybe" Andy replied squeezing his throat to mirror that of Kermit the frog, "but I'm not too concerned about him. Why?"

Toby replied, "No reason," shying away.

"What if," Andy began, "he turns into a zombie? Will you shoot him?"

"Yeah," Toby sprung out in such a way that it surprised Andy. His eyes looking around nervously Toby immediately change his mind, "I'm…a…if I have to."

_Bang._

"Got him," Oscar whispered over to Jim amazed about their first experience in hunting. Supplementing fresh game with home grown vegetables their bodies were nearing their peak in physical endurance coupled with exercising each day as well as manual labor. Jim himself noted that his biceps had enlarged as well as the developing of a six pack which Pam thoroughly enjoyed. Using a bow and arrow to keep their presence to a minimum to avoid the zombies the three ventured out to see the body. It was an impressive six point buck.

Coming up to the body, the bolt finely imbedded into the chest, "Wow," said Jim, "Should we drink the blood?"

Oscar looked at him with a peculiar look.

"Yeah, I saw it in a movie. They kill a deer and then they drink the blood believing that it will make them one with the deer."

Shrugging his shoulders Oscar said, "That's just sick."

Bringing the body back to the safe house the rest of the good were excited to have fresh meat for the first time but in doing so they also had to butcher the meat. Hanging the body outside the house Charles took a knife and began to carve up the body. Such a fine animal would suffice meals for four days, five at most for which Pam and Erin joined Jennifer in fixing a fine stew. The aroma of the simmering meat and mixed vegetables hovered thickly in the air and drew in the men savoring the delight. The antlers would make a fine decorative piece. With a carving knife Charles also demonstrated how to carve up the pieces to the office folk and gave the knife to Oscar who held the knife limping in his wrist as the tip pressed against the soft hide. Encouraged by the others, that there is no way to harm the animal for it was already dead, Oscar closed his eyes and pressed the tip in and felt the blade slide into the muscles and felt his heart sink into his stomach.

"You're doing just fine," Charles said, "Now just follow the line and then you'll be done."

"That's just weird," Oscar said handing the knife over to Jim and retired back inside to wash his hands. Having fresh meat was better on the body for it provided the ready nutrients compared to the canned, process, variety including salt and iron. In addition this, every day they had to eat some strawberries for they contained a larger amount of Vitamin C than lemons to ward off scurvy. They heard about it before but did not fully understand it. It was a painful and slow death if it reached that degree. The lack of vitamin C began to deteriorate the body and led to debilitating muscles, bleeding gums, and eventually the immune system of the body broke down allowing the body to rack with infection and then death.

For them they were rather reserved even though Michael had subtracted himself from his group at Shrute Farms and was wandering through the woods. A party lead by Dwight went out to fetch him back however the seemingly aimless trail of Michael was followed all the way to a natural gas facility upon a small hill that say behind a following creek.

When they found Michael he was at a stream seemingly cleaning himself for battle as the Spartans of old, yet instead of using olive oil he used the clean water of a stream and wrapping it round his head he brandished his club and attempted to sally against the undead of a natural gas facility only to be halted by the arrival of Dwight and his party.

"I can take them!" screeched Michael as the party sought to extradite him from this place. Alarmed by their presence the zombies turned about and began to descend the hill in a slow charge. Though possessing firearms and weapons fighting them would be a useless venture except expend precious ammunition.

"Michael you got to come with us, now!" Dwight said his eyes constantly glancing at his former boss then at the slowly moving horde nearing down upon them.

Trashing about to free himself from the hands of Dwight Michael cried, "No! No! I can fight them. Let me fight them." Such defiance was suicidal for Michael, though bravely believing he could fight was foolish for he did not have the knowledge of how to bring down the enemy that was the undead. He had a branch but thought that constantly beating the body would be enough to kill it permanently. Thus, as Dwight and now Kevin joined in to wrestle Michael away Michael, in a fit of a child, kicked and screamed, "Let me go! I wanna fight! I wanna fight!"

His trashing was making Kevin lose his grip and the zombies were coming in close and with Michael unable to be controlled Dwight made a split decision and dealt a severe blow to the back of his former's boss' skull and he was out as a light. With much haste the group sprinted much of the way back to the farm, though clearly leaving behind the zombies that would be impeded by the trees and entangled in the undergrowth yet just the fear they imposed kept them running their eyes wide in terror with every glance over the shoulder seeing those blood soaked teeth.

Kevin carried Michael the whole way back and deposited him into the barn unceremoniously. The party, upon their return to the household, was rather surprised that they found Michael and asked where he could have gone. "We found him at a natural gas facility" Dwight replied, "I think he finally snapped." It was clear that he had, for Michaels' whine was heard all the way into the house, pleading to be released and be allowed to take on the horde that never materialized.

"That was awesome!" Kevin said in the kitchen, the foul stench from his armpits caused Angela to recoil with a stern look.

After retrieving Michael and keeping him locked in the barn and with the return of Dwight his discipline was enacted. Yet despite his stern stance with the implication of firing ranges, hand to hand combat, and manual labor to keep the fields growing the rest of the time was actually relaxing with fresh food, warm weather, and being with people that they could actually trust, minus Michael.

"I can't believe Luke would actually do that, you know" Kelleye was heard in a persistent nag leaned against Ryan as he tried to keep moving to distance himself, yet she was as swift as he was. "When he bashed through that, which was totally cool, but he let the zombies in and he left us behind. Can you believe that? He left us behind. Why would he do that? Do you know Ryan?" It had been like this for two days. Why she was bringing up something that happened so long ago and was no irrelevant yet that was her nature and her voice was heard all around the house as Ryan kept making laps in the hopes one will tire out and collapse.

A brief update was forthcoming on the Emergency Alert System then the military was on the survival radios with more details. The military was holding along the coast and in a few military bases in the interior of the country, those deemed too valuable to lose. All armories that could not be held were stripped of all of their weaponry and even the Minutemen missile silos were still being occupied by crews in the event that should be necessary for the weapons to be use and prevent anyone from trying to capture them. Canada was experiencing infestation, however, because of its low population density only British Columbia and Toronto were reporting zombies as other areas such as Newfoundland were opening up to refugees and Alaska was taking in people from Russia and Japan.

Hawaii also reported outbreaks but they were minor in scale and easily subdued by the military, but as for now most of California, Texas, Florida, and New York, Washington, and New Jersey had fallen to the zombies and the casualty count was climbing into the millions with more being displaced from their homes. Wyoming, having the lowest population in the country, was finding itself a large island in a rough sea as people flocked their believing that they would be safe, fewer people and the citizens being hearty country folks with rifles and tough back would be of stouter stuff than city folks. "Wyoming?" Creed said, "There's nothing in Wyoming. Trust me I went there. Drove by and looked and not a single thing. That place is gone, man." The rest of the household looked at him confused, "I was there and there's nothing left."

"When were you there, Creed?" Stanley asked.

"Yesturday"

"Creed, you were here yesterday" Phyllis pointed out.

"What was yesterday?" Creed asked.

"Creed, what year is this?"

Very smartly he replied, "1977"

Bob Vance looked at him across the table, "It's 2011, Creed."

Looking at all the faces around him Creed shouted, "I don't have dementia!" stabbing a finger back at Bob Vance, "_You_ have dementia!"

Having Michael back was proving to be a mixed blessing. Thought to have gone insane by the conditions he was placed under arrest in the barn and kept under guard his shoes taken away and given his food three times a day and kept under constant watch.

"I worry about Michael," Angela said, "He snapped and I think some of the others might as well."

Elapsing three days there was not a single sighting of a zombie and the groups settled into a daily routine of chores and relaxation as Pam was finally able to connect with her mother in Rhode Island. Limited to just five minutes she savored every second listening to her mother's joyful voice as she said that Cecie was well and walking about like a windup toy. When it came that they were disconnected Pam gave up the radio and embraced Jim so tightly and for so long weeping in joy. They were well, she heard their voices and having Jim with her it was almost perfect.

Hank and Stanley were on the front porch sipping ice tea and playing checkers as Phyllis and Bob Vance walked through the now growing fields tending to the crop but also having some privacy from the others as the remaining dock workers inspected the remaining trucks. If the situation should arise that they had to flee they made sure at least once a day that they were up to the task.

The days were becoming long and uneventful. Every day Angela would mark on the calendar the day with the posted chores, it was becoming the first month since the outbreak and they were still alive.

Picking up his survival radio Dwight was in direct contact with a naval commander in Rhode Island that was part of a surveillance unit and they were picking up a large group moving towards his farm. "Estimates put their numbers at three hundred with forty-eight various vehicles including pickup trucks and flatbeds."

Dwight enquired, "Are they hostile?"

"We believe they are. Take precautions."

A party, a large one, was coming down the road with vehicles and many people marching on foot beside them. They were not military, appeared to be a motley group of fellow survivors. Dwight climbed down from his perch and approached the home where his bearded cousin came down from the porch to meet him. "They're coming," Dwight said clutching his rifle looking towards the direction of the approaching group. Turning to his cousin and giving a confident nod of the head Mose disappeared towards the barn as Dwight sound the bell having everyone turn out with their weapons in the defense of Shrute Farms. "Finally, a battle will take place. A great battle where my name and that of my family will forever mark this place," Dwight spoke to himself.

Three hundred people and forty-eight vehicles, a massive force, but the military would not engage them because they did not know their intentions and they did not have boots on the ground. Perhaps they were survivors just moving from place to place or they were raiders. Helicopters flew over them and the people waved cheerfully thus they were dropped a supply bundle with a survival radio yet never responded to any hails. Still unable to ascertain their intentions and their lines stretched the military said "you're on your own."

When Charles responded to the radio call from Schrute Farms he immediately called everyone together and explained to them the details. "We have to get eyes on them before they reach the farm," he said, "If they are hostile we have to engage them and hopefully gain assistance from the military."

"Three hundred people?" Jim said rather desponded, "There's too many of them."

"We have to find out what their intention is. They may be just like us but until we know I want everyone to keep their firearms close to them at all times and I want someone on the roof with binoculars. We'll rotate the shifts every two hours." Agreeing to the terms the group broke up with Jennifer getting on the radio to notify the Dwight of the situation and he returned that they were taking the necessary percautions as well.

"We will fight them for every inch of ground," Dwight said sternly. In his mind, these people, these outsiders, were a threat even before they showed their face. With the roar of their vehicles they would draw in the zombies directly towards them. Here, at Shrute Farms, where for days there was not the speck of an undead, now they were coming again thus the outsiders were party crashers. Having fewer numbers Dwight went about making sure everyone had taken up their weapons and had found a good defensive position, though what to do with Michael? Cannot spend a healthy body in watching over him and he was too dangerous to set him free it was decided to leave him in the barn, arrested despite his pleas. "Everyone, take your ammunition and be ready. This will be the greatest fight of your life." Hustling to his position on the upper floor of the barn Toby saw Michael and the two locked eyes.

"Listen, Michael," Toby began with his low, somewhat sad voice, "I know that we had differences in the past..."

"Toby, if I turn into a zombie you're going to be the first one I bite. I'll rip your head off," Michael said looking up at the former Human Resources of Dunder Mifflin cradling a hunting rifle in one hand and a ammunition can in the other as Michael had his wrists bound together behind his back and his ankles as well.

"You know Michael, you can't bite my head off if I shoot you first and right now...i'm a pretty good shot."


	15. Chapter 15

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters to The Office. They are owned by MSNBC. (Apologizes for the late addition for I have moved. Now that I am at my new place I can keep this going. Reviews and tips are appreciated. Enjoy) Italics denote a talking head interview.

Shrute Farms was on "red alert" preparing for what they believed was an upcoming attack from a large convoy. It was sinking into Dwight's mind that this would be the Battle of Hornburg, this meager force against an overwhelming army. Having cleared the land outside the walls for fields of fire except for the woods the German began dispersing his people ensuring that every section of wall was manned. Toby took his scoped rifle to the second floor of the barn overhead of the shackled Michael. Ryan also came in a short time later carrying two cans of ammunition with a rifle slung behind his back and heard his former boss summon him over.

"Ryan, Ryan my man, come over. Cut me loose."

Taking a few steps towards the prone man Ryan looked down at Michael, "What would you give me?" There was nothing that the boss could give; not a promotion, raise, new car, benefits, all that was meaningless but Ryan always tried to squeeze every drop from an opportunity.

"I have some money," Michael said lying on his side on a pile of hay.

"How much?" There was certainly no way that this man could carry excessive amounts of currency on his person, and no access to banks…still Ryan waited for an answer.

"Ten bucks…."

"Michael" Ryan sighed putting down the green ammunition cans, "Look, let's face it; you're a freak." Hearing such words Ryan drew a few steps closer and leaned against the frame of the barn with his right hand, "I don't know what's going through your mind right now but you've obviously lost it."

"Ryan, my man…" Michael tried to say but was cut off.

"No, I'm not 'your man.' I don't know what your fascination is with me but I find it creepy. The reason why I went to New York, most of all, was to get away from you. I don't understand why Jan didn't fire your ass. You're incompetent, can't make decisions, don't know women, and offended pretty much everyone that worked for you. How you got to be regional manager is anyone's guess but let's face it," letting out a sigh Ryan walked away, his final words to him, "You're hopeless."

At Charles' safe house it was quiet. Jennifer was keeping watch on the roof but her shift was almost complete. These last few days the air was quiet with very few aircraft being seen and no helicopters. A few times the survivors actually forgot about the zombies and tried to walk outside but were then reminded of the shut gate and the weapons they had to carry. Jim was taking it rather in stride with no work, no Dwight, he had Pam but no Cecelia but every morning he would look to the other side of the bed and see Pam laying there though she did drool at times but despite that Jim was thankful for it.

When Pam first met Jennifer at first she was taken aback but did not admit to it, not even to Jim. She was a beautiful woman younger than her and worried that Jim would look at her however the longer they spent time together the closer the three women became it was like a college sorority and they would compete against the guys to keep things lively.

Every night since arriving Erin would take an hour to jot down her thoughts into a notepad that Jennifer gave her about the experiences since all this began. She was proud of herself for help Stanley when he went into shock and about the new people they met.

Next to her was Oscar who had shed his informal work clothes for more street oriented; short sleeves with tennis shoes and when they went out on a hunt it was boots and full cover clothes to help protect them from bites. He noticed the changes: _I can honestly say, with all of this I feel like a new man. The old Oscar behind the next, he's gone and with all I've learned and been through I can have a new life._

Darryl kept the picture of his daughter beside his bed to remind him of who was waiting for him. When in contact with the Newport Rhode Island Naval Base he asked them to go through the roster to find her name but each time they could find neither her nor her mother but he still held on it and the picture believing that she was playing with Cecelia.

Every morning the survival radios were checked letting them know that Zulu Niner was still in operation however, on this day the screen flashed an urgent warning that a call was coming in at precisely 1000 hours and Zulu Niner actual must answer. When that came Charles answered stepping outside towards the garden away from the others as they played basket ball.

"Zulu Niner actual, go ahead."

"Go for secure line," a voice said. The phone clicked then another voice came on that was familiar to him, "Charles?"

"Lieutenant Oden?" It was his friend from the Army they were deployed to Iraq together, at the time they were enlisted then Oden went to OCS.

"Yeah, how have you been?"

"Not bad outside the zombies" Charles scoffed.

"Yeah, is Jennifer with you?"

"Yes, we also picked up a few survivors. There is another group at our original POS when we were nearly overrun."

"I saw footage of that. What the hell were you thinking dropping napalm on you?"

"Thought it would be fun."

The conversation changed to a serious tone. Oden did not have much information on the group heading towards the Shrute Farms. "We could not ascertain their intent so we did not drop them any supply bundles."

"What do you want me to do about it?" Charles asked.

"Do what you do best," Oden replied.

"Joy."

When asked about the situation abroad the captain reluctantly confessed that for the past few days the situation changed. Secessionists were growing and inflicting a great amount of casualties on both the military and civilian populous and the government was trying everything in its power to contain the outbreak short of nuclear weapons. "We've lost two Blackhawks" Oden said reluctantly, "One to mechanical failure and the other to ground fire and both crews are MIA and I don't have the ability to search for them." In his voice there was the tone of hopelessness. Oden did not have the ability to look after his own, a father helpless to save his children. "If you…by chance…find them…let me know."

"Sure thing" Charles replied trying to implant a grain of hope into the old man's mind that the missing would found. The survivors noticed that the skies were rather empty with fewer helicopters and aircraft but only Charles knew the reason why and told the others that they were being used elsewhere to prevent them from worrying. "What's the situation around the world?"

"Lousy. China is all but overrun. Taiwan is doing alright as is Japan but India, God, we placed the estimate on the infected to be over one billion." Charles said nothing but felt his heart sink to his stomach.

"Scientists are trying to study these things but they show very poor decomposition. It appears that once they become infected their degradation slows to near stop and they keep their motor function and they don't starve that is what baffles them. How can they summon the energy if they can't draw nutrients?"

"We will deal with them later," the captain said, "Right now we are trying to secure as much land and rescue as many people as we can. New York alone it is estimated that six million people have turned into zombies and now they are slowly spilling out into the suburbs." Hearing the officer's fatigued voice it was obvious that he and his command were played out. "We cannot promise you any support this time, I'm sorry, but you can do is put some eyes on those people and find out what they are up to. In addition you have been drafted." Before Charles could respond Oden cut him off, "The President has enacted compulsory service and with your experience you are invaluable with your safe house to save lives, thus you have been given the rank of sergeant." The rank really meant nothing, a sort of award but there was no command other than the safe house and Charles doubted that he would see pay for several months and Oden tacked on, "Congratulations," his voice rather sarcastic in tone.

Watching from the house Pam whispered to Jennifer, "What do you think he's saying?"

"I don't know," Jennifer replied eyes still fixated on her friend of many years, "But I bet as soon as he comes in he'll have a 'mission' he wants to go do." Her voice sounded disappointed stepping away from the window and turning away Pam followed her out.

"Wait" Pam said catching up, "What do you mean? He's going out there? What about the zombies?"

Jennifer smiled, "Charles always thinks he has to help someone. He said to me a few nights ago that when he got to the office where you and Jim and the others were at that he wasn't going to stay but when he saw how helpless you all were he changed his mind. I guess he still follows what the Army taught to not leave anyone behind. Shouldn't you be up on the roof?"

Jim and Oscar were on the other side of the house playing basketball against Erin and Darryl and had been enjoying it for a couple of hours. "What's the score?" Jim asked.

Shrugging his shoulders Oscar admitted, "I lost track."

Erin was given the ball and was confronted by Oscar whom was hanging back allowing Erin some room to move. He liked Erin and wanted to give her a chance and when Darryl, her team mate, made a run to the hoop Oscar did not obstruct her pass however Jim did not hang back against the dock foreman and when Darryl was unable to make the shot Erin moved to the three point line almost directly in front of the hoop and passed it to her. As soon as her tiny hands cradled the ball Erin jumped and took the shot but the ball fell well short and Darryl caught it and did a lay-up making the points however Erin was disappointed in herself for not being able to make it. Thus far in this entire game she had never been able to score and though she did not admit to it was obvious by her body language, head low on the shoulders, never talking.

"Don't worry about it," Darryl smiled patting her sweaty back. "We still made it." He smiled to try and pass it to the receptionist however Erin sank into the blue funk. The game broke up to allow everyone a chance to shower. Thus the queue formed outside the shower. Everyone was allowed four minutes to clean themselves and there was hot water thus to ensure that everyone received their share a count down timer was placed outside the door where the next person in line would call out the minutes. Waiting last in line Erin was still not speaking and in front of her was Jim.

"Still mad about not making the basket?" Jim asked and she reluctantly nodded. "Don't worry about it. When I was little I couldn't make the shots had to be picked up by my brother to get into the hoop." That cheered her up some. "Nothing to get mad over besides Jennifer says that you are great at other things."

"Wait, she said something about me? What did she say?" Erin asked eagerly. She always wanted to be liked, thus when he realized that he had started this Jim remain mum and looked at the camera with "oh crap look what I have done" look.

_Jim: Erin worries a lot, thinks people talk behind her back, and goes out of her way to make sure people like her and at times it can drive you nuts and when she screws up she takes it way too personally. Case in point yesterday we were going through a weapons course and it was her turn with a pistol and it jammed. She tried to clear it but it went off and she dropped It and the bullet went into the ground about three feet in front of her and for the rest of the day she stayed in room with the door closed. A couple days before that, she and Jennifer were going through hand to hand and Erin punched Jennifer and broke her nose. She was bleeding heavily and Erin spent the rest of that day in her room she thought she killed her friendship but Jennifer just laughed it off. That confuses me._

When the conversation with Oden was complete Charles sent a message to Shrute Farms as Dwight was ensuring that he protected what he thought was lawfully his. The estimated time of arrival into their AO, area of operation, was within three hours. Going around and making sure everyone was at their post Dwight came across Stanley and Hank the security guard sitting underneath the shade of a tree rather relaxed, "How can you sit there?" Dwight said flabbergasted, "We're on high alert."

Lifting up the rim of his straw hat, eyes looking up, Stanley said, "We are," his voice low. That was all he had to say. Both men were sitting against the trunk of the tree, rifles on their laps and ammunition cans beside them. There was no attempt to get them going thus Dwight gave up and went on to the barn where Michael was still under arrest, Toby was in the loft above his head making a fighting position using bales of hay humming to himself smiling. He was squared away however towards the back of the barn Dwight heard some strange sounds and delved further to investigate and found Ryan and Kelly making out.

Their leader's sudden outburst of, "Stop that!" shook the two, making their rapidly beating hearts skip and broke up their act, fixed their clothes, and moved out the back of the barn. At the gate of the property what was left of the dock workers were better prepared with Madge was stacking sand bags three at a time as the rest waited, their eyes looking out at the area. It was a light day, the temperature hung at a great seventy-five degrees, very little humidity, and the sun was partially hidden by slowly crawling clouds. Now and then the survivors could hear Dwight bark out some sort of order but they ignored him. For the dock workers it was not the same without Darryl whom was easy going and 'one of them' a worker compared to Dwight whom worked in the office above them playing on computers though they did their chores they kept to themselves as the hours ticked off slowly. Meredith was in the advanced stages of drying out. There was no more alcohol outside of first aid she had been bitter and snapped repeatedly, hallucinated, and would wander aimlessly around the farm talking to herself. Watching her for days Creed said, "That's why I don't drink."

"Dwight, hey Dwight, Kevin was heard calling out loud, "There some guys over there" pointing towards the house down the street. Taking out a pair of binoculars and placing them to the lenses of his glasses Dwight could vaguely make out several men approaching the house on foot, stacked up outside, kicked in the door, and rushed in. "Everyone, keep out of sight," Dwight said before ducking down behind the perimeter wall. When the house was swept the vehicles were summoned and they came in forming a perimeter using the vehicles themselves with their engines pointing outwards and parked beside the house were the tanker trucks and buses. Once they were set up the buses were opened and out came more people and Dwight tried to keep a running count and noted immediately that these people were remarkably different. Those stepping off the buses were in a sorry state, in ragged clothes, skinny to the bone, with children, women, and the men in uniform pushed and prodded them along to the opposite side of house where he was. "Prisoners" he thought.

Lying beside one another behind the barn Kelly whispered to Ryan, "How did they know about the farm?" He did not know himself. "You think they'll come over?"

"Probably" Ryan replied and he had thoughts off meeting new people, perhaps someone he knew.

It was a good chance to barter with another group, perhaps trade for something useful or meet some pretty women, Ryan thought, someone quiet. They could not see what Dwight could through his binoculars. Moving up to the loft of the barn for a better look with Toby Dwight looked out as the perimeter was strengthened with concertina wire being emplaced in front of the vehicle perimeter.

"Hey cats, what's shakin'?" a voice asked from behind. Turning about there was Creed, hands in his pockets and a clueless face.

Looking the man over Dwight said rather disappointed, "We have new neighbors," and looked back at the neighboring house.

"Oh good, any girls?" Creed asked walking towards the loft door and leaned out behind Dwight to see but only saw faint figures moving about as Dwight had binoculars.

"A lot of hardware but their uniforms…they're not military, militia, maybe," Dwight went on speaking out loud Toby looked through his scope and saw the same thing and saw the horrible looking people being moved behind the house. When one fell down he was kicked several times and dragged the rest of the way.

"Should I shoot them?" Toby asked.

"No, they far outnumber us. Best just wait and see what their next move is. Maybe they're just trying to find a place to hold up for the night and tomorrow they'll be gone." That was what Dwight was hoping for. "I want everyone on full alert through the night. We'll sleep in shifts. You'll take the first and last shift." Dwight said looking down at Toby whom pulled his head back away from the scope and flicked his head up.

"Why?"

"Because I said so" was the reply and Dwight departed.

"I should have gone with Pam," Toby muttered.

When told that the convoy had arrived and were setting up shop in an abandoned farm next to Shrute Farms Charles began planning an operation. He wanted to get on the inside and find out what they were up to and Dwight dropped the interesting bit that they appeared to have prisoners. Clad still in his tiger stripe uniform he looked over a map of the area showing the terrain beside him was Jennifer then Pam and Jim stepped in to see what was happening. "Remember Oden?" Charles asked and Jennifer said 'of course' "Well, he's in Newport that was him on the horn. He cannot get eyes on the people and wants us to do it for him. Oh, and he promoted me to sergeant."

Jennifer scoffed, "Why?"

"He hates me," Charles joked, "He never got over what happened in Taji." What that was however was not discussed. "I only need one person to come with me."

Looking at him worried Jennifer asked, "Are you sure?"

"Yes, just one. Gives better flexibility. Who wants to go with me?" looking at all the faces around the table. Jim raised his hand.


	16. Chapter 16

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters to The Office they are owned by MSNBC. Charles and Jennifer are my creations.

Those that were staying at the Charles and Jennifer Safe House had been instructed to reconnoiter a large convoy of fifty vehicles that were moving towards Shrute Farms. Their intent was not clear and the already strapped military could not keep even a drone on station any further. As such they asked Charles and his group to take a look, however, the mission changed. Over the secure radio Charles was in contact with the naval base in Rhode Island. A consolidated military convoy had been ambushed during the night near the area that the same large convoy was. A proper Quick Reaction Force could not be mounted, thus Charles and his group of trained civilians would have to risk themselves and among them were Jim Halpert and his wife Pam was stalwart against it.

Inside their small bed room Pam was brewing up a storm, "No way" Pam barked, "You're not going out there. I won't allow it." Her eyes were giving a never blinking leer at her taller husband upon hearing the news that Jim would accompany Charles outside their safe house on this reconnaissance mission on this large convoy that was moving towards Shrute Farms. "If something happened to you, how would I take care of Cecelia? How do I explain that to our child, Jim?"

Pam was scared, though she would not admit to it. With her back to the door blocking his exit and Jim standing beside the bed already gathering his things Pam tried imposing her frame to prevent him from leaving, short of tackling and hog tying him.

Downstairs Charles and the others were waiting. They had six hours till dusk and though nightfall would cover their movements it was not advisable during the zombie uprising. Their rotten corpses did not give off thermal energy and sound carries further at night and with a good portion of the area covered with trees it would be a chaotic confrontation.

"Pam, listen" Jim began, "I have to go. Charles, Darryl, Oscar, we're all going and we'll be back in a few hours. Why are you so scared?"

Immediately she quipped, "I'm not scared." Though she was hugging of her own body and looking at the floor, tapping her feet it was clear that she was.

Jim continued, "There are people out there that need our help, Pam."

"Yes, but why do YOU have to go, Jim?" Pam spat, "Oscar and Darryl...they can go. And Charles? He's a soldier. It's his job to put his butt on the line. Not you, Jim. They're…they're…" she stopped herself from saying anything cruel that she would regret.

In her mind, it was all about the fear of losing Jim. After having Roy put down before he could turn and not having her mother and child with her, and not knowing the fate of her father, all that was left was Jim and being inside this safe house was the best they could do because out there, just over that wall, was a hostile world with flesh eating zombies and now people that wanted to kill them just to survive.

"Hey, hey" Jim smiled, "Come on. Nothing bad is gonna happen. I promise you." Walking across the room his hands graced her arms then slowly slid around back and drew her into a hug that she gave into after feeling his warmth. "I'll be back, okay? Promise."

Down below was the call from Charles, "Let's roll."

"Hey, I gotta go," Jim sighed, pulling away and twisting at the hip, one arm reaching back and grabbing his gear from the bed the free hand picking up his rifle that was leaning against the wall beside the door. "You okay?"

Unable to respond, Pam folded her arms across her chest and nodded before shying away and quickly running a hand over her eyes to wipe away the tears.

Going down the stairs Jim's mind was bouncing around the thought of just asking Charles to have him replaced, but seeing the others waiting for him he threw that idea away. He was not better or worse than anyone else and to have them go in his stead and have something bad happen; they be killed or missing, he knew he could not forgive himself.

Oscar and Darryl were checking each other's packs. They had spent hours attaching, taking off, and re-attaching everything to make sure that it sat properly. With rifle, pistol, and hand to hand training this was their first chance to see if all those hours of training would pay off.

Every man carried a butt pack on their belt that carried three days of food, survival blanket, compass, candles, matches, weapons cleaning kit, maps, and two quarts of water though they did not plan on being out that long it was just a precaution along with ammunition for their rifle, side arm, and a entrenching tool.

The procedures of what to do if they made contact with zombies and humans as well as if they were overrun were also covered. Everyone wore long sleeve shirts, jungle hats whose wide brim provided shade, full length pants, and boots, no body armor and nothing that was not needed.

Oscar asked, "How far are we going?"

"Somewhere about fifteen miles, both ways."

Whistling Oscar was surprised at the distance but was confident in himself that they would make it as was Darryl.

Jennifer and Erin, the receptionist, were the others that would have to stay behind. Stepping outside the house the sun was warm and the sky partly cloudy.

Approaching the gate of the safe house Charles released the bolt to his rifle and pulled it back just enough to see the brass casing firmly in place. The rest of the patrol did the same. Erin and Jennifer opened the gate and the patrol darted out without saying a farewell.

Closing behind them Erin clamped the lock tight and looked back at the house but did not see Pam. It was just the three women now.

During their walk back to the house Erin glanced over at her new friend and sheepishly asked, "Why…why do we have to stay here and the guys get to go out?"

Pausing in her steps Jennifer ran a hand and drew a blade of her dark brunette hair over her left ear then slowly traversed her head to look at the smaller receptionist, "It's just how he works," she replied, "Charles always had the mindset of the Army. Don't take it personally, but he just feels that both you and Pam are not up to it yet."

"I can do it" Erin said taking the words as an insult, "I have been practicing with you and him for weeks now...and...and...I can do it." Balling her hands into fists at her side, she looked funny when she was mad. "I'm not some dumb girl like…like…you know…I can fight!"

Slowly smiling Jennifer reached out and placed a hand on Erin's shoulder, "I know you can," speaking very softly, "But we are just looking out for you." Walking away Erin was still fuming but the words that Jennifer said began to seep in and had a calming effect.

It was Jennifer's shift as sentry and seeing her go up to her perch Erin went in search of Pam. First place she checked was her room and there was Pam, sitting on the edge of her bed. "Hey, Pam" Erin smiled, flashing her white teeth, "Jim and the guys just went out…and…"

Hearing those words made Pam sink further; her arms were crossed tightly across her stomach, slightly hunched forward until her hair fell over her face. "Pam…you okay?" Erin asked worriedly, "Do you..uh…need anything?"

Pam lightly swished her head but said nothing. Feeling that she was not wanted Erin backed off, closing the door behind her. With Jennifer on the roof and Pam isolated in her room that left the receptionist all alone and she hated it. Her only solace was the journal she kept hidden in her room. It was not much, just notes jostled down every day with special events or exciting things such as their first helicopter sighting and knowing that there were other people that survived.

Erin's room was next door, the walk was silent as her feet graced the oak beams, closing the door, and sitting on her bed she looked around, even though she had spent weeks inside this room it always felt that it was not her place to be here; this was someone else's room and she was an intruder.

In the space between the mattresses Erin plucked out her journal, cracked it to her current page that had the date:

She had forgotten the date and just estimated from the start. The page was half full already with sentences that she kept private and did not bother to speak. Taking up a ball point pen and clicking the button she placed the pen to the page and began writing. She took to writing the statements that were coming over the radio as well as the conversations that was being done with the Rhode Island naval base. She just memorized them and wrote them down later, though if it was discovered that she was doing it the pages would be burned, but still she did it with the belief that it would be useful later. One of the conversations with Rhode Island was the use of aerial support. "Napalm is proving to be effective. We drop them in front of their advance," Rhode Island said, "They walk right through it, and keep on going until they are crisp. However, using napalm is quickly using up our limited fuel reserves. We are using everything with wings and an engine trying to rescue people, so, we have to limit our use."

Erin remembered the first time she experienced napalm. It was the night the zombies were overrunning Shrute Farms. She and the others hid inside the basement of the house as Charles climbed to the barn and had the planes drop their load right on top of them. By some miracle he and the others survived.

Flipping to the back of the book there was a list of all the survivors' names. Gabe had been crossed out. She missed him dearly, sometimes crying into her pillow. Having no picture of him his face was beginning to fade from her memory as was a lot of other people. She had left everything in the office when they were forced to flee.

"You see anything?" Dwight called up to Kevin as he was trying to climb the roof of the barn. It was a harrowing ordeal from the start. Kevin was 'volunteered' to climb the barn to gain a dominating vantage point. Even though Kevin had done this job as look out many times before each time it was the same story; he was terrified of heights, his knees shook and could not hold up his body. He would cling to the slanting roof and whimper as Dwight prodded him to continue, "Get up there, you big baby."

"Why do you keep making me do this?" Kevin shot back,

Kevin yelped, "You know I hate heights."

"If you fall" Dwight called up, "try to aim for the hay."

There was never any sympathy in his voice, never a kind word that he truly meant. He was not evil; he just had a different mindset in running the show. He wanted everyone to be hard, like Spartans. Now that he was in charge of his fellow workers he and free from the rules of Dunder-Mifflin, he could now exhort his fellow people to perform the way he always wanted, as a military style society.

Those not guarding the perimeter were in the field such as Ryan and Kelly tending to the crop; corn was now approaching their knees despite the winter. With the soil soft and moist and the weather usually warm and fed with fresh water it promised to be a great harvest but never did Ryan expect to be milling around in a field looking at corn. He missed his I-pod, his coffee, and his women. Having Kelly always at hand was beginning to lose its luster. Always perky and touchy Kelly was being drawn from one romantic scene to the other to justify their 'relationship.'

She began suddenly, "Oh my God…"

There it was, Ryan's mind went, "That's how she always begins these and that's my cue to begin drowning her out.

Despite weeks of being without a source of celebrity gossip; no internet, tabloids, she was still able to ramble on breathlessly about people that would not matter to Ryan or anyone else in their group. It seemed that this was Kelly's meager hold on reality, to keep from slipping from the resulting madness that fallen out from this apocalypse. For the dependent Creed and Meredith, now out of drugs and liquor respectfully were in severe stages of withdrawal. For Meredith she was stomping around the interior of the hay filled barn, growling and nipping at every people that came to ask if she was alright. Years dependent on alcohol were now bleeding away and stuck on this farm with no kid her whole body was changing. Michael was still tied up in the barn. Ever since he snapped and fled the farm and was caught before launching a suicidal attack against a group of zombies he had been placed under arrest and left in the barn. Every night his pleas would carry on and it was feared that they would attract more zombies, but they never materialized but his cries began to enrage the others and Hank, the security guard, shoved a dirty sock into his mouth.

For Creed he was mellow going without his 'stuff'. Having used up his stash he was walking about the farm, appearing in places seemingly at random with his hands in his pockets asking, "Hey, cats. What's happening?" and leaving with "See you around, Ace." And leaving the people wondering why he was there. He wanted a guitar to play but they had none. As such he spent most of his idle hours in the barn's loft, laying in the hay dozing or staring up at the ceiling listen to groan of the wood and the chirps of birds.

Knowing that the massive convoy was on their way but because their intent was not known Dwight did not know how to react. He kept a sentry on the barn, poor Kevin, and everyone was to keep their weapons within arms-length at all times.

Everyone knew about this large convoy and they were hopeful that it would be filled with other survivors, maybe people they knew or family. Kevin prayed for women and so did Ryan, Meredith prayed for booze.

Sitting on the porch of his family house Dwight had his rifle drawn across his lap lightly rocking back and forth, his eyes looking across the field that separated him from the Zimmerman farm that was half a mile down the road. He did not know why but his mind was focused on that place. There had been no zombie sightings in days and he wondered if they had died out in the area, but he still kept receiving the warnings over the radio stating the opposite. In New York, New Jersey, Florida, it was pandemonium yet here in Pennsylvania, at this one speck of land, it was peaceful, and it was that peacefulness that let his mind wander. He began to day dream.

Dwight: _There is always a need to create a weapon that will impose fear into your enemy. First it was fire, then war paint, cannons, and machine guns. Now, with the zombies, I began wondering if there is a weapon that we could create that would scare them. Zombies don't have fear though, but still, I want a weapon that could scare other people. What scares other people? Bears. Bears can kill a person in an instant and wouldn't be afraid of a zombie. They would rip them in half, but imagine if we could harness them for our use. (His lips pull back into a beaming smile) Imagine…Bear cavalry._

Bear cavalry would have to wait. It was just past three when Kevin called out seeing a swirl of dust down the road. He called out to dock worker Michael that was at the barn door then lost his footing and slid off the roof and splashed into the soft hay, cushioning his fall but still scaring him.

"I think I wet myself" Kevin was heard whimpering as he picked himself up and blades of hay coming out of his mouth.

This was it, everyone was put on alert. Grabbing their weapons they ran to their stations as the dust cloud became larger. Down that one narrow road there was a large Ford pickup truck painted by hand in green. They were coming up to the Zimmermann barn. It was clear that Shrute Farms was occupied because of the earthen wall surrounding it and the bits of still charred land made by napalm.

Looking through his binoculars Dwight could see the pickup truck turn off the road and approach the Zimmermann house. It came to a stop and men came out and approached the house and began searching.

Behind them another truck stopped and behind them, more men came out, and ran for the barn. Eight men he counted but there were two more men still at the trucks. Bolted to the bed was a single Browning M2 .50 caliber machine gun in each truck.

Calling out the warning Dock worker Michael pointed over with his hand and yelled, "Dwight are you seeing the same thing I am, man? They got machine guns. Lots of them."

Looking over the same field that Michael was gesturing towards Dwight could see everything clearly but his focus was on those people, their vehicles, and all their supplies.

Back on the road there came up the rest of the convoy and it was as large as the military said it was. Fifty vehicles, if all of them were loaded for bear with enough supplies and equipment to feed Shrute Farms for years.

Once the buildings were cleared the convoy was summoned in. Exactly fifty vehicles all sorts; eighteen pickup trucks, twelve five ton trucks, four fuel tankers, and eight school buses, and eight Humvees, each one of them with people.

Like a well-oiled unit after securing the perimeter for threats the people began setting up facilities. It appeared that they were going to stay for a while. Still looking Dwight could see people coming out from the buses that had blacked out windows. There were women, children, older folks, and one man in a wheel chair. Those people were carrying back packs and suitcases and in street clothes whilst those around them, setting up the perimeter were wearing woodland camouflage, boots and black tactical vests, Kevlar, and rifles. They looked military but Dwight was still not sure of their identity until four of the 'soldiers' looked towards him and began waving.

They had made contact.

"I hope they have some cute guys" Kelly said as she watched with Ryan.

"I hope they have girls" Ryan responded.

"What was that?" Kelly replied, offended.

"You heard me."

After a couple of minutes four people began advancing out from the Zimmermann farm, all in woodland camo, carrying rifles but one man was carrying a shaft of wood with a white shirt affixed.

It was a truce.

Dwight climbed over the perimeter wall dragging Dock worker Michael, Toby, and Andy with him. Seeing then off the others were hopeful that they would join forces and be able to start a whole new community safe from the zombies and other threats and start once again.

When they came together one of the soldiers slung his rifle behind his back and the others stayed back a few paces.

Doing the same Dwight approached saying, "I am Dwight Schrute."

"Greetings, Dwight, I am Bryan" the soldier replied. He was a clean shaven man in his early thirties with brown eyes and shaved head when he took off his Kevlar. "I'm from Scranton, how 'bout you?"

"I'm from here." Dwight replied firmly. His instincts were kicking in not to give strangers useful information. He did not know him, might be Government or militia trying to get an edge over him.

Nodding and casting his eye over the land of Shrute Farms and breathing in the air Bryan said, smiling "Looks like you've had one hell of a fight here."

"A few" Dwight replied quickly.

Nodding again Bryan said, "Well, I guess you're pretty strong and well organized. How many people do you have in your group?"

"A hundred or so" Dwight replied. He knew it was a lie. If he said the true figure Bryan might see how weak they were and mount an attack. Dwight said his answers so convincingly that Bryan believed them.

"Impressive. I have just less than three hundred, including women, children, and elderly. Do you have medical supplies? I need inhalers and antibiotics. We can trade for them. What do you need?"

Again Dwight could sense Bryan was trying to feel him for weaknesses. "We don't need anything, but we can give you some of what you need."

"Wonderful," Bryan beamed a wide smile, "Once we get set up, why don't you and your people come on over and we can throw a party?"

The others behind Dwight perked up.

Bryan continued, "When we left town we picked up other people along the way including a sorority house."

"Alright" Toby said to himself hearing that as did Andy.

"We have carpenters, plumbers, law enforcement, and even some ex-military to provide security. I was thinking, Dwight, why not join together? Think about it; the two of us combining and making a new Scranton? We have the right people and the land. Every person can have their own house, their own plot of land, and with enough security not everyone will be needed on the wall but can do other essential functions."

Bryan spun a convincing tale, but Dwight was not sold on it. Keeping a straight face he said, "I must talk with my people." He was not really going to take up a vote, his mind was already made up, but again he was not going to let Bryan see any weakness.

"Okay then" Bryan continued to smile putting his Kevlar back on, "when you decide, you know where to find us." Offering his hand the two shook and both sides retired to their respective sides.

Along the way Andy said "You were a rock, dude." But Dwight said nothing. "Dwight was the man."

Perhaps he was trying to goad Dwight into softness and let him consider Bryan's proposel.

Toby himself liked the idea of more people, more diversity than now, more food and luxuries including sorority girls.

Once they were inside the walls the rest of the people came out to enquire what was happening and who those people were. Looking back the vehicles were being offloaded. It seemed that Bryan's company brought everything with them. They had furniture, televisions, radios, clothes, food, generators, everything to rebuild a small town and the members to take up every occupation. By their count there were two hundred plus individuals including women and children just as Bryan had said and also had a great variety of firepower.

With the men gone the three women at Solace were content of keeping a running home. It had been three hours since the others had left and since then the sentry had been changed now Pam was on the roof trying to keep herself occupied no having Jim with her. As she sat on the roof something moved in the nearby tree line. At first she took it for an animal until a figure came out then another. Was it Jim? No. The persons were too short. Looking through her binoculars they were haggard looking men with one carrying something in his arms.

"Someone's coming!" Pam called down. Hiding her diary Erin ran out of her room grabbing her ammo belt and weapon as Jennifer did the same from the bathroom.

The two men were coming towards them from the slope. Seeing the house they called out, the one with free hands waved. Scaling the slope they were told to halt and ask who they were but their reply of "No English" made them wonder.

Weary of outsiders there was a moment of hesitation before their charity prevailed. Allowed inside the two men collapsed, pleading for water. In the man's arms was a child, about five years of age.

"Anyone here speak Spanish?" Erin asked.

Jennifer did.

She asked them where they came from in Spanish after sending Erin to fetch food, water, and First Aid and leaving Pam as sentry.

The man with the child began rambling, gesturing back from where they came. Both of them had deep rings under their eyes, malnourished, with chapped lips, bleeding gums, and matted hair. When Erin came back she began treating the men as they continued to talk.

Jennifer translated, "They said that they escaped from a prison just down the road. They say that men dressed as soldiers kidnapped them as they were leaving their home to get to their family in New York City. The soldiers took the women away and the children and forced the men to work and be bait for the zombies so they can raid stores. They did not give medical attention to the wounded and shot people to keep everyone in line."

Opening up a map Jennifer asked them in Spanish, "Where are these soldiers?" The men pointed at the space near where Zimmermann farm was. After showing the spot they drew out their path and said that "Before dawn they were taking down barbwire and the guards weren't looking they grabbed their niece and ran into the woods and several other people followed them. It was dark and they got separated but they moved all through the night and found themselves here."

Impressed that these two men moved through the forest in their scared feet, carrying a child they were brave and no amount of talking cold convince them to stay. Continuing to talk they said, "Last night they were waiting alongside a road and they saw the Army. At first they thought they were going to be rescued then they shot the trucks."

The men paused for a moment out of fear but Jennifer encouraged them to continue talking. "The men went up to the Army and we heard shooting. They dragged bodies out of the trucks and shot them. We heard yelling, screaming, and crying, and then they dragged some of the soldiers up to a hill and heard gunshots and then more being placed onto the back of another truck." Both men were shivering as though they were cold and looking up with wide eyes. Jennifer was silent, absorbing each word as Erin paused in her work and was stunned.

They continued, "They said that if anyone tried to run or stand up to them they would die just like those soldiers down there and we believed them. They are bad men. Something must be done to stop them or they will kill more people."

Erin wanted to treat the child but the uncle was reluctant to give her up, "You can trust her," Jennifer told them but still the uncle was reluctant to give his niece up but when he handed her over Erin made sure not to leave his sight. The little girl had a cut just above her left arm, not deep but it was not being cared for. Opening it up some wiped she cleaned the wound where at the slightest touch the little girl cried and the uncles jumped up, alarmed but he relaxed seeing the band aid being applied.

"There we go" Erin smiled and the niece smiled as well and said, "Thank you." Hearing those words warmed her heart.

"They say they don't want to stay here. They're trying to get out of here but they need food and a doctor to look at their brother. They say that the people that kidnapped them beat and threatened them and starved them for days," Jennifer said replying, "From what we hear New York City is overrun. You'd be better off going to Rhode Island where the military has set up a safe zone."

Nodding the men accepted three days' worth of food and water in two simple backpacks, socks and shoes and hats and a map. As they were leaving the men hugged the two women thanking them for their kindness, "Via con dios."

Seeing them off they felt worried the patrol was going into a trap and radioed their encounter to them, "Yes," Jim replied over the radio, "We can tell."

They had reached the destroyed convoy. Every vehicle was riddled with holes, blood streaks on the round, shell casings, articles of uniform and equipment here and there, a blooded boot with not foot. Looking at this Charles replied, "This brings back memories."


	17. Chapter 17

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters to The Office. They are owned by NBC. The following story contains scenes of violence and gore. Discretion is advised.

Zimmermann Farms have been occupied by another group that had escaped from Scranton. It was at least two hundred people including men in uniform heavy firepower and a large party of workers that were, at this moment, fortifying their perimeter to rival that of Shrute Farms. With the larger manpower the walls quickly went up encompassing enough land for a good size harvest once they begin to till the earth using woven plastic bags with metal frames; modern gabions that were filled with earth and then stacked three for a base, two for firing steps, and one. That was enough to stop a horde.

Their leader, Bryan, had come to seek an alliance but Dwight sensed something was amiss and asked for time to discuss the matter with the rest of his group, in fact, he had already made up his mind and was using that time to inform Jennifer of the matter, who in turn relayed the information to Charles who was in the field with Jim, Darryl, and Oscar as they came upon the destroyed convoy they were sent to locate and find out who it was that ambushed them. The military and law enforcement, now under Martial Law, were stretched beyond it means to do so themselves.

Those that resided within the walls of Shrute Farms and Charles' safe house had maintained communication with the safe haven in Rhode Island they could not send any help, thus they were effectively on their own. To prove that the military could not protect even itself Charles, Darryl, Jim, and Oscar, now a patrol, came upon the destroyed convoy that was attempting to retreat to Rhode Island; instead they were ambushed by an unknown force with many dead and some feared to be missing or worse captured. It settled into their minds that zombies were not the only ones they had to fear in a zombie apocalypse. In a time when people should be pulling together there were those that were fighting only for themselves. It did not make them necessarily evil until one knows their means being used for them to stay safe.

A cold shiver encompassed Charles as he looked over the convoy, whispering to himself, "This brings back memories." Each vehicle was pumped full of holes with the metal skin cold to the touch as they had been sitting in place ever since. Scattered around the cracked asphalt were spent shell casings intermixed with splotches of dried blood, and bits of shredded uniforms showing the scale of the fighting. Judging by the angles they were hit from all sides and none of them had heavy weapons to gain fire superiority such as roof mounted Fifties or Mark 19 grenade launchers, just M-16s and a couple of SAWs judging by the disintegrating metallic lings found around a couple of the Humvees and gauging by what was being thrown back at them they were outnumbered by at least four to one and with no support the convoy was a sitting duck.

"God damn this is creepy," Oscar said to himself surveying the trucks. On the tail gate of one five ton there were thirty-two impact holes and streams of dark brown blood and bits of bone imbedded with it and the stench inflamed his nostrils to the point of nausea.

"Check the beds," Darryl directed as he went for the cab of the truck.

It had duffle bags full of holes with names spray painted in bold. He wanted to open and go through them, trying to find something of use but in seeing their names he decided against it.

In the cab Darryl tried the engine but it would not turn over. The gas line had been cut deliberately and the engine block was shot up as a coup-de-gras. "Whoever did this," Darryl said, "Wanted to be sure they won't run ever again."

Jim moved with Charles down the length of the convoy. Ever alert for a lingering zombie or perhaps another ambush they kept their weapons up and their ears open. The field around them was still, not even a single bird in the sky. Even though he wanted to ask, what will they do, Jim kept his mouth shut as they moved up from one vehicle to the next, checking their interior. No bodies but plenty of blood. As they were about to reach the point vehicle Jim's radio came on and Pam's voice was heard in his ear.

Kneeling beside one of the Humvees Jim keyed his radio to respond and Jennifer's call, "Yes, we can tell." But the conversation went on further with Jennifer passing on what little she knew.

"How many?" Jim asked.

"I don't know," Pam replied, "But they said that they saw the militiamen take some of them to a hill bordering the highway…."

Looking around there were bottom feeders gathered was an indication of which hill top she was referring to. Charles climbed up there and Jim had no choice but to follow. It was eerie to say the least listening to them gnaw and snarl of coyotes and vultures as they went for remains. Combing through the wreckage they found no bodies but their gaze immediately turned to the hill top and Charles went up there with Jim lagging behind trying to keep up. Jim kept enquiring if they should get back with the others but Charles just ignored him until they reached the top and found coyotes swarming off a small trench. When the coyotes were alert to their presence they turned about and snarled instead of running not wanting to give up their food and to spur them on their way Charles unsheathed his machete from behind his back and began to swing wildly left to right that cleaved one of the animals and sent the others in a utter rout.

Jim jumped back. It was surprising and looking at Charles his whole demeanor changed when he looked upon the bodies. Picking up one of the coyote's corpses he threw it aside and uncovered one of them with a dog-tag still wrapped around its neck. "What are you…." Jim began but never finished his sentence as Charles looked at the tag and all the others, counting the bodies and keeping back his tears.

Hearing the shots Darryl and Oscar jerked to alert but saw their two friends on the hill and the coyotes scampering away and relaxed a bit, but knew that rifle fire would attract any zombies in the area. Writing down all the names Charles pocketed the list and marked the site and send a call back to their safe house that would be sent in turn to Rhode Island so that they could send a force to recover the bodies, but there were five people still unaccounted for when the figures were sent to Rhode Island.

The others in the patrol were nervous as the vultures continued to circle and cry and out in the tree line they could feel the leer of hungry animals. Going through all of the vehicles and the area they could not find the five missing personnel. All through this time Darryl and Oscar were hoping to ride one of these trucks back to their safe house but their hopes were dashed when they had to walk out of the ambush site, deep into the woods off the roads. Noise discipline was enacted meaning that no one could talk above a whisper and only if they needed to and Jim was using the radio to keep in touch with Erin at the safe house for it was her shift on the radio.

It was becoming too much, even for Charles. Now they were fighting their own countrymen, possibly their own neighbors when they should be helping each other to crush the real threat, the zombies but now desperate people were using this as an excuse to enact their personal vendettas.

Coming upon where the ambushers had established their fighting positions the patrol also found a large pit, dug by hand, with several more bodies. Oscar took out a pad of paper and jotted down numbers as Darryl lowered himself into the uncovered hole and poked with a stick at the mangled corpses. Each one had a hole in their head and their faces were leather tight, mangy hair, hollow eyes, and rotten or missing teeth. From the looks of them they were zombies and been put down days ago, perhaps weeks. Strangely, there were no flies or maggots feasting on their flesh and not even the coyotes of vultures dared to draw near. It was as if they were projecting death itself that scared them away.

With this part of the mission complete the patrol changed their headings to move towards the new owners of Zimmermann Farms and place eyes on the new residents. Evidence was pointing that those new owners were responsible for the convoy's destruction and the deaths of many and capture of others and Charles had his heart set on revenge as the rest of the patrol; Darryl, Oscar, and Jim followed with a deep pit in their stomach at seeing such heartless cruelty, and believing that sticking with Charles will allow them to survive, he has so thus far.

At Shrute Farms having established contact with Bryan and his company the survivors of Dunder Mifflin office park were gathered in the kitchen to discuss what they should do. Angela said, "I think we should join them. They are larger and we'd be better off than what we are now." She was bitter, holding her stomach with both arms and standing alone on one side of the table. At the head of the table was Dwight, sitting back in his chair with a confident appearance. He listened as the others debated but his mind was already made up. He did not trust Bryan, he had the demeanor of a car salesman, smile and a hand shake but something sinister plotted. Even if everyone wanted to join Bryan, Dwight would refuse but he let them banter back and forth buying time while looking out the window he could see the farm with the rising perimeter walls and now watch towers on every corner and lights when they established their generators. That company has far more in terms of everything than what Dwight and the others could only dream, and if Bryan figured that out then what's to say would prevent them from steam rolling over them; turning a possible partnership into complete control?

Phyllis and Bob Vance sat together calmly drinking coffee with the former smiling and whispering things into Bob Vance's ear now and again but of what they never said. Dock worker Michael, Madge, and the rest of the dock workers saw a great opportunity in having the two groups merge; a larger position, more people, more equipment, and a greater chance of survival. Michael said, "We haven't seen a single zombie in days. What's say we go now before any of them show up?"

It was true that not a single zombie had been seen for nearly a week, it was strange but they were in no mood to go looking for them. Toby, who was becoming quite skilled as a marksman with the scoped hunting rifle, sat keeping to himself, looking at Dwight wanting to say something but the roar of the others kept drowning out his words and he thus gave it up and no one bothered to ask him what his opinion was.

The only person not allowed in was office manager Michael Scott as he was still under arrest in the barn following his little incident in fleeing the farm. A group, led by Dwight, found him about to enact a suicidal charge against a group of zombies and carried back and placed in cuffs ever since despite his persistent cries. There was no telling how long he would be kept there but he was ignored as the group still discussed their situation as the calm disposition of the safe house with Erin, Jennifer, and Pam, whom were waiting for the patrol's return changed.

Knowing that they discovered the lost convoy they were now counting down the ETA, estimated time of arrival, for their return that was three hours, at dusk for they did not want to be caught outside with the zombie threat still present.

Though calmed down a bit Pam was still upset and quiet at having Jim go outside the safety of the walls and stayed shut up inside her room as Jennifer was sentry outside. Taking her time Erin was in her own with the radio keeping abreast of the patrol's progress as Jennifer sat on her perch on the roof. To keep herself occupied she took to writing down everything in a journal:

_Pam is in her room and won't talk to me. She's angry but I hope it's not because of me. Jim's not here, neither is Oscar, Darryl, or Charles. I hope they're safe. I'm getting the hang of doing all this stuff like gardening and firing a gun. I was scared and I still am but I'm getting better at it. I want to go outside, I mean outside the walls but I'm not allowed. I feel like my parents have grounded me._

The patrol was nearing the farms, perhaps a mile away when they halted at the sound of footsteps. Crawling up to a covered spur they saw a large group of soldiers, clad in woodland pattern battle dress, marching down a sparsely used trail. Taking out a map they drew the conclusion that this group was heading towards a stream that had fresh water for local farms. Confirming this notion came from what the workers were carrying; jerry cans and empty plastic water bladders. Oscar began counting their heads as Jim wrote them down, Darryl kept watch as Charles took the radio and sent a message to the safe house notifying them.

Oscar reached a count of fifty: thirty works and twenty soldiers armed with two SAW machine guns and the rest with M-16 rifles. As they moved down the trail Oscar also spied something interesting; there were five individuals that wore a different set of pants than everyone else; one had blue stripes, another had green. Unable to confirm what this meant Oscar whispered for Charles to come up and looking for himself and he immediately knew who they were, five military personnel: one wearing the ACU pattern of the Navy, one Marine, and three Army. They must be the missing personnel from the convoy.

The group moved down the trail, the 'soldiers' had instilled a strict noise discipline; no talking, singing, not a word. Only the guards were allowed to talk and that was if they encountered the zombies or other threats. They moved with the workers in front, arrayed in lines on either side of the road and the guards behind and to ensure that no one took to flight everyone, except the suppose captured military, had to remove their shoes. Moving down this old trail, full of thorns, briars, and sharp rocks tore up the pads of their feet but the prisoners were forced on.

Jim whispered watching as they went by, "What are we going to do?"

"We're gonna get them" Charles whispered back, thoroughly convinced of attack.

Jim's eyes widened in fear, "What?"

"Not now" Charles corrected, "Let them get down the trail to the stream and we'll ambush them there," whispering as his eyes tracked the moving group, "They'll be separated from the rest and give us a chance." Oscar and Darryl looked at with surprise. Having seen the firepower the twenty armed guards carried against the four of them it was suicidal but Charles could not be shaken from his conviction. "We do it now. We might not have another chance. If they sense danger they will execute the prisoners." Looking at one another the office workers agreed and they followed Charles as they turned and left the spur, abandoning their primary mission of putting eyes on Zimmermann Farms and instead went for rescue.

It was difficult but the patrol made it through the undergrowth and trying to remain silent but they managed to get ahead of the work party and made it to the stream a few minute before their arrival. There was a slight current that flowed through and the width of the stream was only twenty feet and estimated only three deep with the banks steep of soft earth on either side and studded with trees and dead trunks. Someone had constructed a simple wood bridge that the trail ran to and went deeper into the woods beyond, to where no one knew. There was not enough time to establish good fields of fire or proper fighting positions, but it was a good of place as any.

It was here that the patrol would split with two going over the bridge and other two remaining in a flanking position upstream. Charles gathered the patrol, "Remember, if anything happens follow the plan; break contact and move to the North-East and then move towards the safe house." The men nodded and checked their weapons as Charles said, "Look for the leader, I'll fire first. Jim and Oscar will shoot the machine gunners and Darryl will take out the man with the radio."

It sounded easy but as the seconds crawled on they grew nervous knowing that battle was approaching. All wanted to do their best but knew that one slip up would mean their death. They had trained for battle, not for murder but for their survival, all fired weapons and fought the undead but now they would fight humans to free others.

Looking over as Oscar as he clenched his rifle Charles asked, "You scared?"

"Yeah," Oscar admitted.

"Everyone's scared" Charles said.

"Really?"

"Yes, just remember what you've been taught." Giving him a quick pat on the arm the patrol splintered and rushed to their positions. Jim led the way across the bridge and found the beams to be old and would creak and groan under his weight and if they thundered across they would make a racket that would give them away and splashing across the frigid waters of the stream was out of the question but Jim turned back to Oscar and said, "Step on the sides of the beams."

"What?" Oscar replied.

To demonstrate his point Jim placed his right foot on the furthest extent of one of the bridge beams and added his weight, there was a slight squeak as wood rubbed together but it was not loud then he advanced his left towards another. "C'mon."

It was a tip toe across as the party came closer. They could hear stomp of feet on the ground and the rattle of rocks smacking one another when kicked, then a sharp admonishment from one of the guards when one worker stumbled over a root in the path.

Making it across the bridge Jim and Oscar dove into the trees and found a slight depression behind a thick tree and hid themselves there just to the right of the bridge and could see the path just as it curved to meet the bridge. Once they were in place they looked for Charles and Darryl to their right and on the opposite side of the stream but could not see them until Darryl lifted up his hand above the foliage. Once they were in place they waited and the seconds dragged on as the group drew closer and the ambushers could feel their hearts beating faster knowing that a battle was eminent.

Checking his rifle once again Jim looked over at Oscar whom was wide eye in fear, his hands were trembling and skin becoming pale.

"You ready?" Jim whispered over.

Jerking his head to meet him Oscar replied by just shaking his head. None of them were ready to fight and die but their conviction to survival and to help others steeled them. It was rather unheard of. In their old office they labored from 9 to 5 and that would be it, now with the zombie apocalypse they were in the woods watching and waiting as the group came up with rifles at the ready. Charles had told them that the first shot was the worst and the best. Worst because if they missed their target would know of them and they could track them down and kill them, thus they had to make everyone count. Placing the stock to their shoulders they waited. Jim could see the trail and it curved and as the waited he blinked several times and pictured Pam and Cecelia being held in her arms. If he could make it through this he would be back there.

The first persons at last appeared they were workers carrying jerry cans. Haggard in appearance under fed with tattered clothes and worn out shoes they looked like they could barely stand. Taking the turn as soon as they found the stream they threw down their burden and stepped into the ice cold water to clean themselves as the guards pushed their way forward when the excitement from the workers was beginning to worry them.

"Get the water!" one of them sneered setting them straight and in there were the missing military personnel helping carrying one person that had collapsed to the banks. They as well were in sorry shape. Since their capture they had been beaten starved and deprived of human decency and they received no mercy from their guards. They counted the missing five and then Charles began searching for their leader as the rest of the patrol picked out their targets.

"Hurry up, get the water and then you can bathe" one of the guards said then turned his gaze upon some of the women and smiled devilishly as perverted thoughts entered his head. All of the workers went to the stream's bank and submerged the cans and bladders into the cool water and one by one the filled containers were lifted up and placed on the level ground above. Because so many were working the containers were filled rather quickly and once they were done the guards allowed them to bathe.

Oscar whispered over to Jim, "How come we haven't fired yet?"

"I don't know," was all he could respond.

The truth was Charles was waiting to let the guards become complacent. Several had begun to smoke, lie down, or go into the trees to use the bathroom but that one guard, the perverted one, hovered close to the workers, the women, and kept his unflinching eyes on them that made the women cringe.

From their positions they could still see the targets; Jim and Oscar picked out the gunners and had their sights center mass but the longer they waited the more their hearts raced in anticipation for the crack of the first shot. Charles found the leader, he did not wear chevrons nor officer rank but he beamed of confidence and authority as many of the guards came to him asking questions as he sat with his back to a stump, ankles crossed, puffing on a dwindling cigarette.

"Ready?" Charles whispered to Darryl.

"Ready," the dock manager replied as he placed his sights on the radio operator that sat near the leader having shucked his burden, a forty-five pound radio, on the ground and stretched his back.


	18. Chapter 18

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters to The Office. They are owned by NBC. The following story contains scenes of violence and gore. Discretion is advised.

Jim, Oscar, Darryl, and Charles had set themselves up in an ambush position around a large group of militia and prisoner/workers. In with the prisoners were five people they suspected were military personnel that were listed as missing/ captured by militia earlier. The patrol's original mission was to put eyes on those now occupying Zimmermann Farms that borders Shrute Farms but when they saw this group moving away towards a nearby stream to gather fresh water they could not resist an amble opportunity to nab them. Weeks before three of them; Jim, Oscar, and Darryl were just workers at a paper and office supply store, now, they were soldiers, drafted into service as the country deteriorated in this seemingly impossible scenario of zombies, but it soon rose that zombies were not the only ones they had to fear.

Next to Shrute Farms there was Zimmermann Farms now owned by a large group of people led by a man named Bryan that Dwight was suspicious of wishing to join an alliance, however Dwight wished some time to discuss the matter all to bide time for those with Charles and Jennifer; Jim, Pam, Erin, Darryl, and Oscar, to delve deeper into their new neighbors.

Setting up on the far side of the stream Oscar and Jim hid behind a thick tree with their targets arrayed before them; waiting for the first shot. They were directed to shoot two men that were carrying Squad Automatic Weapons, or SAWs that had belt fed 5.56mm NATO rounds. On the militia side of the stream Darryl and Charles had secreted themselves to the right in a flanking position ready to take out their own targets. All of this was waiting on the first shot. Jim could feel his heart climbing into his throat. He never thought he would ever be in the position where he would shoot another man. The first man he killed was that crazed man with the entrenching tool and that came back to haunt him as Jim placed the iron sights of his rifle on one gunner as they sat down on a fat log, puffing on a cigarette.

Oscar was equally disturbed. Soothed by the words of Charles Oscar could still not shake what the repercussions that would occur after this moment. He could just get up and flee, he was not military, but looking at Jim and the friendship that they had fostered since the apocalypse began he knew he could not abandon him.

Charles lined up his shot and Darryl slowly gave the thumbs up with his left hand that he was ready. Their respective targets were the supposive leader of the militia; a tall, strong man that did not wear rank but seemed to have aura of authority as men kept coming to him with questions and he gave directions. Most of the militia was hanging back in the shade of some trees but one was hovering close to the prisoners that were on the bank and in the stream filling up jerry cans and bladders. He had this perverted look on his face as he watched the women, now finished with working, now taking the time to clean their shaggy skin and clothes.

Waiting for the guards to become complacent and vulnerable and they reached it Charles carefully flipped the selector switch on his rifle to semi and placed his finger around the trigger and fired. The first shot cracked and the leader collapsed instantly and Darryl let loose his shot that caught the radio man in the hip and spun him around and fell to the ground screaming.

Jolted by the sudden noise Jim and Oscar looked as the two gunners twisted their heads to find where the fire came from, the other guards scrambled, calling out "Get down!" and the gunners hunched forward and swung their weapons to meet the threat. That is when the office workers fired. Their training and conditioning was going to show as their first shots caught the two militiamen in the chest and down they went. Wide eyed as he saw his target collapse Oscar muttered, "Holy shit," and saw the heads now turn towards them, across the river, and the shootout unfolded.

Having dropped four key members the guards realized they were in a bad spot. Two of them crawled forward to get to the SAWs and Darryl saw them and fired but a log blocked his shots. The enemy was in a slight depression the only effective way was to use a grenade. As he pulled the trigger several times, each one meaning one shot went down the barrel and the stock pushed against his right shoulder his blood was flowing as his heart pumped to match the excitement.

The workers, caught in the cross fire, began to panic. Some scrambled up the bank and two were shot down whilst others took flight with the current. Now was their chance to flee.

Fearing that they were surrounded the militia began firing across the stream. That one guard that was over watching the prisoners crumbled to the ground; writhing in pain as three rounds struck his spine. The prisoners began to scatter, most of them bolting down with the stream's slight current but five of them stayed hugging the steep bank. When the guard collapsed one of the prisoners raised his head above the lip of the bank and grabbed the man by the collar and pulled him down to the water. Instead of helping him the one prisoner, a burly man, shoved the guard's head into the water as another prisoner wrestled the rifle away. In just a few seconds the guard stopped thrashing and the prisoners took off his equipment.

"Frag out!" Charles suddenly announced and Darryl looked to his comrade to enquire what he meant until an earsplitting bang made the ground tremble under his body.

"What the hell was that?" Darryl asked as black smoke began dissipating as it rose up above the cluttering trees.

It was the grenade they needed.

Jim and Oscar saw the blast and were stunned for a moment as they saw several people slide into the stream and hugged the bank as many others began to flee down the current both in the stream itself as well as on land but the fire suddenly ceased. Their weapons still trained Oscar and Jim looked out at the area and at each other wondering what should they do as the militia seemed to disappear.

The whole firefight was over in about a minute and there were some muffled moans coming from the militia firing positions Charles and Darryl advanced from their position and signaled for Jim and Oscar to come across. As they rose up they saw the five people in the stream, one holding a rifle and a body floating downstream. "Drop it!" Jim called out pointing his rifle at them.

Turning his head towards the stream Charles saw the rifle being lifted up with both hands, "Come out of there!" Obeying the order the five helped each other up and were next ordered to put down the rifle and to lay down, hands behind their heads and ankles crossed.

Darryl approached the site where the grenade went off and was sickened by the scene as the bodies of the militia had been churned into hamburger that moved him to vomit. Once Jim and Oscar were across Charles directed them to post on the trail to guard for a potential counter attack as Darryl checked the rest of the bodies. There were seven dead militiamen and two dead workers lining the bank, aside of the five being pulled out from the frigid waters the rest had vanished into the country side. After checking the bodies Darryl was ordered to search the live prisoners whom were scared because they did not know who these new people were, only one was wearing something resembled a uniform; they could be another faction of militia or vigilantes and they would be taken to some place darker than what they had just left.

"Search them and tie their hands" Charles ordered. It seemed incredulous to handcuff military personnel but their true identity could not be confirmed at the moment thus everyone not on their team was considered suspect and would be arrested. As Darryl searched Charles took out a small pad of paper and asked them, "Name, rank and social security number " and to delve deeper asked each one; what was the name of the hospital where you were born." To ease their concern Charles said that they were United States Army, it was partially true; Charles was the rest were 'drafted.' In their search Darryl found one of the prisoners was a petite, pretty looking fmelae and as soon as Darryl went to search her a large man growled, "Keep your hands off of her."

"I'm going to search her" Darryl replied.

The man, a Marine, was in no place to argue.

Jim looked down the trail that was partially overgrown with weeds and roots but there was no human presence. That burst of excitement was easing off but his hands trembled and skin turned a pale white as it settled in that they just survived a firefight. Looking over at Oscar he was fixed, staring straight ahead wide eyed as if in shock.

Once the prisoners were taken care of Charles ripped off the boots of the dead militia men and handed them to the prisoners whom had their hands cuffed before their bodies. They had to exfil this area as soon as possible before word reached the base and reinforcements arrived. There were no socks available at the moment they would have to tough it out. Along with the female specialist there were two other enlisted male soldiers, a non-commissioned Marine and a Navy corpsman; all had blistered and cut feet that would slow their march but they had to do it.

Darryl kept watch over the five prisoners as Charles gathered up the weapons and equipment of the dead militiamen. The prisoners were not to carry any though; the rifles to stripped and the bolts and firing pins thrown into the woods and the barrels into the stream. The ammunition was stuffed into their pockets as much as they dared would not hamper their flight and the rest again thrown into the water but the M249s SAWs were considered too valuable to spike thus Oscar would carry one and Darryl the other.

"Get 'em up" Charles ordered, "Move out. Oscar take point," and gave him a direction to follow. Rising up the prisoners were placed in the center with Oscar in the lead and Jim behind and Darryl and Charles bringing up the rear. Crossing the bridge they saw the body of the guard slowly moving underneath them, "Sucks to be you," one of the prisoners said.

The plan was to get the five to the nearest landing zone, hail a bird, and get the five out of there as quickly as possible but for the four members of the patrol they would hide on the edge of the zone and be left behind and leave back for their safe house, but the pace was slow because of the prisoners. Having experiences torture and neglect they were no condition to march for long periods of time and night was approaching and the rule was to never be out at night with the undead around.

Calling a halt and concealing themselves in a thicket the patrol began to nurse the wounds and Charles used the survival radio and keyed it to the Newport Naval Base.

The female took the canteen and began gulping down water but the Marine next to her said "Don't slam it. You'll get sick." Lowering the canteen she looked at him puzzled, "You're dehydrated. You slam that stuff you'll just puke it back out."

Jim looked after their wounds as Oscar handed out some protein bars to help recoup their lost strength. For the prisoners, still bound, these strangers were liberators. They understood why there had their hands tied but it was not tight and they were being cared for far more than the militia ever would as the prospect of being out of here heightened their morale.

Charles was on the horn with Oden who said that two Chinooks were near their area and would be diverted to pick up the prisoners. The coordinates to a landing zone, a open field in the woods, was given that was less than a mile away. The patrol was roused onto their feet and headed out. They had perhaps an hour before sundown but when they reached the southern edge of the clearing Oscar immediately held up his closed fist , a signal to halt, and gently waved his hand to the ground. Up ahead was what made his body run cold. On the far end of the LZ there were dozens, perhaps a whole platoon of well-armed militiamen in tracked vehicles throwing bodies onto a pile that were perhaps ten feet high and dousing them with kerosene.

Pausing long enough to get word that, "The LZ is being guarded…." Those words were enough to call off the operation. The prospect of losing another helicopter Oden did not want to commit. Another worry was that the militia had tapped into their frequency but looking over their surroundings the militia was rather relaxed, with many men sitting or lying about not aware of their presence, there was a chance that they just set up here because it was a large, open field, an inviting place for a bird to set down.

Looking over the area Charles turned to the group and whispered, "Backtrack and cut to the west, we'll head back to the safe house." The others nodded and quietly slinked away into the forest. Charles and Darryl took the lead with Oscar and Jim in the rear. There was the need for haste; to get out of the area knowing that the militia would be sending out people to recover their dead as well as the prisoners but there also the need for caution to avoid the patrols as well as any zombies. Strict noise discipline was observed though there were some grunts from the prisoners their boots hurt their already wounded feet. After going through the woods and the sun settling fast there was no chance for them to stop and risk being caught in the dark.

Hot footing it the rest of the way they made it to their safe house just as the sun was halfway sunk below the horizon. When the gate slid open the group hastily entered and when the gate shut Pam came rushing out of the house and threw her arms around Jim, nearly knocking him off his feet.

Jennifer smiled and looked at Charles as Oscar and Darryl sat down on the front steps, winded by their dash. "You got them?" Jennifer asked looking at the five new faces.

"Yes" Charles nodded, "Let's get them inside."

Even reaching the safe house there was no reprieve. The five were taken inside allowed to sit and have their cuffs removed and to eat but kept under guard The reason for the lack of trust was the fear that they may not be whom they appear to be or that they could have turned, become one of the militia hence their on edge until everything was cleared. Under regular circumstances they would be sent to base to be debriefed but as they waited for the reply from Rhode Island it was clear that the stretched military would turn down their request for evacuation and tell them to hold tight.

Going back into her room Erin cracked open her journal and began writing again,

_Jim, Oscar, Darryl, and Charles just came back and they brought five soldiers with them. They look terrible. We gave them some food but I heard them talk on the radio that they won't be sending a helicopter to pick them up. I guess they will be with us for a while. It will nice to have some new faces around here. __J_

Soon after finishing it became Erin's turn to pull guard duty. Gathering her kit she traced through the dining room as the others, gathered around the table, began to go over everything that happened starting before the ambush.

Marine Sergeant Mannis, a great burly man, began, "We started out from Carlisle Barracks with everyone. We had Marines, Air Force, National Guard; everyone there and had to use the service roads to get around the civvies on the highways. We got, maybe, thirty miles from Scranton when we got hit. They had everything set up and it was like fish in a barrel. Captain Flannigan was killed and we lost the first sergeant." Their was contempt in his voice ans his eyes looked about at all of the new faces around him.

Sitting next to him the female Army specialist, McCarthy, spoke rather reluctantly, "They pulled me out of the Humvee and threw me to the ground, striped off my gear and began beating me. Then one guy came up and rolled me over and began searching for my ID card. When he found it he smiled and said "Private McCarthy you're now a prisoner of war." She shivered as she recalled the story. "They tied my hands and took me up a hill then they put a bag over my head and put me in a vehicle. I could hear some shots and yelling then someone grabbed my thigh and I heard this booming voice, 'Any one of you that touches her will be shot!' and whomever it was let go."

Army Private Cools, a skinny white man of 19 with sandy brown hair that was growing in and slightly baggy cheeks and brown eyes. His part of the tale went on, "We were paraded in front of some people and I remember being put in front of a video camera and them filming and two guys standing around me, you know, like the insurgent videos from Iraq. I thought they were going to behead us."

Navy Hospital Corpsman third class Coleman, a six foot tall, strongly built man with light complexion and brown eyes in his early twenties, his head was lowered and his hands on the table having eating little of the food and drink offered to him.

When a question was directed to him he spoke only a few mumbled words before passing it on to Air Force Airman First Class Burke a 19 year old Hispanic man with dark hair and brown eyes with rather light skin. He went on, "They beat us one after the other for no reason. They never asked us questions just beat us, like they were taking out all their aggression against us because we were helpless."

The last was Army Private O'Donnell he was a short man, perhaps five foot eight with growing blonde hair and blue eyes. All of them had faded than usual skin and bleeding gums because of acute vitamin C deficiencies; scurvy, and he did not speak much either. Their time in captivity had left them isolated and empty. The firefight and rescue had left Jim collapsing into his seat next to Pam with a heavy sigh and saying, "I miss the zombies."

After eating their feet and other ailments were addressed by Jennifer and Pam as Jim and Oscar went to the garage to clean their weapons. They were shaken by what had happened, however Oscar was excited, "That was amazing, can you believe that we survived all that?" whereas Jim was more sullen and withdrawn nodding with his friend but not saying a word. They fought beside each other and knew everything that happened, from the first shot to last. He wished that they could have saved all those other prisoners but now, having scattered to the wind with no shoes, food, water, or weapons the chances are that they will be in the bellies of zombies by morning and what drove Jim to near vomiting was that he could do nothing to stop it what's worse was that more militiamen were nearby, not just the ones at Zimmermann Farms. There was, perhaps, an entire army spread throughout the county and if they find out where this small group is they could easily surround it and annihilate them and Jim had this flash that Pam was being dragged away by a couple of militiamen into a life of slavery as he could do nothing to stop them and was drive to tears.


	19. Chapter 19

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters to The Office. They are owned by MSNBC. I do own the characters Charles and Jennifer. They are my creation. Warning: the following will have a great deal of violence. Viewer discretion is advised.

Bryan was livid when the survivors of the foraging party came back. They had lost the civilian laborers but also the military prisoners and he threw down his hat and stomped it down repeatedly. In response he sent out a larger patrol into the forest to recover what they could. Coming upon the ambush site they found the remains of their fallen comrade and their weapons disassembled. Whomever did this must have high level of training. Those that escaped said that they could barely see their attackers, really just their muzzle flashes.

They could not recover the workers just the bodies of the guards and upon their return the Zimmermann Farm went nuts.

From the nearby Shrute Farms they saw every light come on and heard yelling and screaming but what was actually happening they did not know. Climbing up into the second floor loft of the barn Toby lay out on a blanket and peered through the scoped hunting rifle and could see people being moved into one of the small buildings of the farm next to the house. Those in uniform were shoving and kicking civilians. He couldn't do anything to stop them. They were outnumbered in every way; numbers, firepower, vehicles, and defenses. Already Bryan, the Zimmermann Farms leader, came over in parley to seek an alliance between the two farms but Dwight was not going to give in. He already suspected something was amiss with these people and turned them down, but he knew that if they angered them enough they would roll over them, thus he was left in a perplexing situation that night when several shots were heard coming from their neighbors.

Putting everyone on alert in the fear of a zombie attack Dwight climbed to the roof of the barn for a better vantage point and his jaw dropped as his eyes peered through the binoculars. Enraged about the casualties Bryan's voice was prodominately above the ruckus as he began to antogonize the prisoners that were left, demanding to know what they knew, which was nothing and then, Bryan and his guards stomped towards Shrute Farms, no doubt demanding answers.

"Toby, keep me covered," Dwight said as he began to climb down.

Twisted his head back to see the leader decend, "Are you seriously going out there? Why?"

"They're coming here looking for answers," Dwight said when he reached the bottom and shoved a pistol into the back of his belt. "Ryan, you're with me."

Before they could head out there was a voice calling from inside the barn, "Dwight? Hey, Dwight?"

It was Michael. He was still under arrest for snapping and running off, "Dwight? Are you going out there?"

Taking a few steps inside the barn where the darkness surrounded him Dwight responded, "Yes, Michael, i'm going out there. You're not coming with me."

"Okay, look, Dwight. They're coming here wanting to talk. Let me talk to them."

Annoyed and wanting to leave Dwight turned and took a few steps out before Michael called out to him, "Dwight, please. They're coming here and they're mad. Listen, I can talk to them and be able to smooth it out. I may not be the best leader but I can talk to people. Let me go out there and talk to them and find out what they want. I promise I can help you. Just give me a chance."

For some reason Dwight pondered this and stroked his chin and flicked his eyes over at Ryan whom was waiting to scale over the wall and couldn't figure out why Dwight was actually thinking about this. Mciahel was crazy. The stress got to him and he and the others did not want a repeat of this once the braces came off, but then Dwight drew his knife and cut the plastic, "What the hell are you doing, Dwight?" Ryan said truely alarmed.

"Don't worry," Dwight assured him, "I got this." The three of them headed out to the wall. Above them Toby saw Michael was now released and was thinking to himself, 'Is there something I missed?'

From beyond came a shout, "Dwight!"

It was Bryan screaming at the top of his lungs. Such a shout echoed through the land as it bounced off the nearby trees. Over and over Bryan called out fot the Shrute Farms leader to show himself. No doubt he would be armed so when Ryan, Dwight, and Ryan stood on top of the wall to show that they heard and were coming Dwight turned to his former boss and said, "Okay, Michael, he's the rules. Go out and find out what they want and come on back. Got it?"

"Yes, yes, Dwight I got it," Michael responded rubbing his raw wrists, "Geez, did you have to put those cuffs so tight?" He did because Michael was struggling to get out as soon as he was placed under arrest. Climbing down the steep slope of the wall in his socks. The ground was broken from the work they did when they removed the bodies of the zombies from long before. At this point Michael would say anything just to get out of those cuffs but when he walked closer to Bryan and could see the seriousness in his eyes he paused for a moment, thinking to himself, "What the hell am I doing?"

"Why?" Ryan enquired.

"If they get mad, they'll just shoot Michael."

Erin was writing in her journal when a knock on the door made her jump. Sliding the papers between the mattresses she approached the door and slowly opened it. There was McCarthy, one of the prisoners they rescued, her shoulders covered in a thick wool blanket and her eyes filled with fear.

"Are you okay?" Erin asked opening the door all the way. Since their arrival Erin was trying to be kind to the prisoners. They were allowed to keep their weapons after a report came back that they were clean. It was not exactly protocol but everything was thrown out because of the zombies, but they had to get back to Rhode island as soon as possible and Charles and Jennifer, the leaders of this group, needed everyone to do their part, but McCarthy was terribly shaken by her experience. She said that she was not raped but her captors kept taunting and threatening. Because she was a new face and was about as young as she was Erin tried to befriend her.

"I-I can't sleep" McCarthy replied with a quivering voice. "C-can I sleep in here, with you?"

"Sure" Erin agreed. Slowly the petite Specialist entered the room looking it over. It was the same as her room except the human company. "You can sleep on the bed, if you want." Offering the small bed but McCarthy couldn't accept it.

"No, it's your bed. I'll sleep on the floor, 'kay? I just…I just like to have someone around, you know?" speaking rather softly.

"Okay" Erin smiled then pulled off the comforter and one of the pillows and placed them beside the bed neatly.

Laying out on her back and looking up at the ceiling McCarthy glanced over at Erin as she laid out on her bed, ready to sleep. She had an early morning watch shift but when she saw McCarthy she just couldn't help herself, asking, "Where are you from?"

"Omaha, Nebraska" McCarthy responded pulling up the blanket to her chin with both hands over her chest underneath.

"Is it nice there?"

"Yes."

"Do you have any brothers or sisters?"

"I'm an only child"

"Really? So am I. I was born premature and I couldn't eat solid food until I was eight!" McCarthy was surprised. Her body began to relax being in her company and they spent the better part of two hours talking. Pam went by to do her bed check carrying with her extra blankets for the military prisoners when she heard giggling coming from Erin's room. Knocking on the door and cracking it open slightly there was McCarthy and Erin and Pam closed the door with a smile on her lips.

Having plucked several service personnel from the grasp of the secessionists and their first taste of real combat against living being it was unsettling at first when the patrol returned to base. Though having not been able to put eyes on the new base at Zimmermann Farms they saved people and when they took them in Jim sat on the edge of his bed and his body began to tremble. "Jim, are you okay?" Pam asked sitting next to him.

"We…I...killed people…" he replied with his hands clasped over his mouth, eyes wide with fear as he looked at the wall.

"Tell me," she asked in a whisper, "What happened?"

Reluctantly Jim turned to his longtime friend, husband, and father, confessed about the firefight. It churned her stomach about the carnage, how the civilians fled and they were not probably lost in zombie infested territory. It was a side that she did not know but she did not turn him away. Slowly reaching up with one hand Pam turned his head towards her and they looked into each other's eyes just inches away, "Jim, you did what you had to. If it wasn't for you they wouldn't have made it. You can't let this bother you or you'll…I don't know…you'll break down."

Jim was already wrecked when he killed that crazed man in the woods but now he was a soldier. Never did he think he would be in this position. He never trained as one, he was a desk worker not a fighter, but he and the others were forced here. Nodding Jim leaned in and the two kissed and spent the better part of an hour together alone.


	20. Chapter 20

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters to The Office. They are owned by MSNBC. I do own Charles and Jennifer, they are my creations.

Dwight was going to play a game of Russian roulette in letting Michael out of his shackles and sending him out to confront their neighbors at Zimmermann Farms whom was streaming mad over losing several of his men at a nearby creek as well as several prisoners. Before, Michael had lost his mind and went running into the woods and it took Dwight and several others to rescue him before conducting a suicide charge against a group of zombies now he was sending Michael out, on his own, to talk to a man that had a scowl on his face that he was about to kill somebody.

As Michael climbed over the earth perimeter wall and walked into the narrow strip of land between the two farms everyone was watching as his slender appearance tip toed through the churned up earth that was once covered with the charred remains of zombies. Michael was feeling his heart climbing into his throat as he drew closer to Bryan was watching him with a unblinking leer and flanked by a couple of well-armed guards but when he came up to him Michael put up his best face and extended his right hand in a friendly gesture but Bryan was in no mood.

"Who is responsible for this? My men are dead!" Bryan screamed. His voice was heard all the way inside the perimeter, "Was it your people?"

Michael was taken aback, "Us? We're not that kind to do that," and then he chuckled, "Look at us. We've barely got out of Scranton. What makes you think that we want to go toe to toe with people like you?" Michael was trying to sooth Bryan's feathers.

"Dwight, my guy, is not very trusting of strangers. I mean, can you blame him? But perhaps there's something we can do for each other, as neighbors." Rising up on to his toes to take a peek over Bryan's shoulders, "Looking over there I see something we could use and I know we have things you can use. So, how about a trade? Fresh food, corn on the cob, tomatoes…?

Watching from the second floor loft of the barn Toby had his eye placed to the scope of his hunting rifle able to see but not hear anything but it was amazing that Michael was still alive, though he kept his sentiments to himself. All he could do was fire if Bryan and the others opened fire first.

Stanley was sitting on the patio with Hank the security guard and playing checkers showing how content they are with their surroundings and Dwight was ramrod straight holding a solid face as he watched from the wall then Michael shook hands with Bryan, turned and came walking back. Once he was back inside the perimeter Michael dusted off his hands and looked at Dwight with driblets of sweat forming on his head from the exertions: having been arrested for so long his body had weakened but Dwight cared not for that, all he did was what was discussed.

"Well?" Dwight asked as soon as Michael climbed back in.

"Well, Bryan is pissed about his people but I convinced him we weren't responsible, but he insists in an alliance but I know you said no so in the end I bartered a deal of a trade."

"A trade?" Dwight raised an eyebrow, "Like what?"

"Well, his people need fresh fruit and vegetables…"

Angela shouted, "Our crop?!" It was growing in despite the wrong and unusually warm season. It was the desperate need for a renewable food source that spurred them to sow the fields in winter using this advantage. Angela and the others had labored for weeks to get what they have right now and now some fools with rifles next door were demanding a share? It was inconceivable and they looked to Dwight, telling him not to give in despite all of them knowing that they could not stand up to a force this size. It was either appease or face bloodshed before Michael tacked on, "Oh and they want a woman. A pretty one."

"A pretty one?" Dwight said with a scowl then twisted his head left and right at Angela and Kellye, "We don't have a pretty one."

Erin awoke in her bedroom to find McCarthy sound asleep beside her bed. They had spent the entire night talking to each other like teenage girls at a slumber party and learned so much from one another. Taking her diary from underneath the mattress the receptionist tip toed out of the room and went to the bathroom for a shower and brushing teeth. As the door closed she could hear Jim's somewhat tired voice down below, "I miss the zombies" Jim sighed as he sat at the table with Pam. "At least with the wall around us we don't have to worry."

He was referring to the growing threat of the secessionists that were outside. With the zombies the main defense they had; the concrete wall was enough to keep them out but a wall was not enough to stop a human being especially a desperate one.

The new additions; being McCarthy and the other prisoners, were to have a thorough debriefing after being captured but the military could not afford to evacuate them back to Rhode Island with their losses. For right now they were stuck with Jim, Pam, Oscar, and Erin from Dunder Mifflin and Jennifer and Charles that saved them. All was better for they were on their own compared to Dwight, the walled compound had just about everything they needed including growing food and fresh water. Coming from down from watch Jennifer noted that there was not a single zombie in the area. It was strange but perhaps the secessionists were drawing them in. All the better.

Through past few nights there was distant rumble and chatter of small arms fire along with loud bullhorns and voices of loudspeakers that seemed to be drawing the undead towards their prepared positions and kill zones which are large, open fields that they had hacked out of the landscape. It is said that they had slaughtered hundreds of thousands already which was all the better, Jim thought. The more they killed meant there was less they had to worry about for their first horde they survived was still in his mind where all of them were forced to huddle in the Shrute Farms basement as Charles called in a napalm run right on them.

It was wearing on Jim more and more as they were kept on watch but had not gone out on patrols since they rescued the personnel and once they were inside Pam thought that they could take Jim's place and he would not have to risk himself going back out, however, that was not to be.

Erin finished her shower and dressed herself in clean clothes and went back to her room where McCarthy had already gone. Closing the door and sitting at the foot of her bed and taking out a pen she wrote carefully,

_Last night was great. McCarthy and I spent the night talking and I learned so much about her. She is an only child from Nebraska and her parents were just farmers that were barely getting by because of the droughts and went into the Army for the money and went for a simple job as a clerk because she couldn't see herself as a MP or something like that and she was never sent to Iraq or Afghanistan and what happened to her was her first fight but she is very brave to have made it so far and she says the same to me._

_She is a very sweet person and I'm glad we saved her and from what I'm been told she is going to stay with us a bit longer. I'm so happy. ^-^_

Closing her diary and stashing it under her bed Erin went downstairs where Jim, Pam, Charles and Jennifer were sitting around the dining table. There was no urgency they were simply taking it easy which was rather surprising considering what was outside but there was a sentry posted and the radio was on scanning for any traffic. Thus far nothing was popping up other than the cycled voice from the Emergency Alert System.

Jim was a wreck after the rescue having to do what he did even though he had to it was ripping out his heart and Pam used the entire night consoling. Neither had slept and were running solely by the caffeine of coffee and after seeing what a rifle could do Jim spoke to Charles in private and asked that he not go out on any more patrols also insisting because it was what Pam desired and looking at the salesman his face showed that he had no fight left in him.

Beside the growing garden the two slowly walked along the concrete perimeter wall, Jim was not carrying his rifle and his voice lowered and tired from deprived sleep. When he began he was blunt and to the point, "I spent the night talking to Pam and to be honest, I just…I just can't do it, anymore. I mean, I'm not a soldier, like you. I just can't kill people," when he said that he wanted to quickly rephrase it, "I just mean…" lifting up his head and taking a breath, "Pam is scared that if something happens to me out there, she…" he began to trail off but Charles knew what he was driving at.

"Hell, I don't want to be here anymore than you do under these conditions," Charles said, "I had this place prepared for just Jennifer and I. Having you, Darryl and Oscar going out that is to fulfill the needs at hand. I know you guys are not soldiers, but I knew that I have to train you to perform to defend yourselves and others in an urgent time."

"That you did," Jim nodded and looked up at one of the windows of the second floor and saw McCarthy looking down and waved.

Charles said, "Tell you what. When the military finally sends us an evac you and Pam can get on it. I don't know when that will be, though, but if you want to go, you can."

"You're not going to think less of me for it?"

Shaking his head lightly, "No. Some people just can't do it. These are dark times and many leaders would force a person to fulfill what is expected either by calling him a weakling or a pussy and shaming him to perform or by putting a gun to his head, but I won't do that and force a person, such as you, to do something that you don't want, but know this, even if you remain here you will do what is expected in maintaining this place, regardless."

Jim nodded as Charles continued, "Still, it doesn't mean you're weak, just means you're not cut out for going into the shadows, like we have done. Plus, when you make it to Rhode Island they will put you in a better position than here."

There was the conflict of the Government now using the Draft and the chances were that once Jim landed in Rhode Island he would be put into uniform, but Charles said that he would try to pull some strings with his friends there, "Either way," Charles said, "I'm not going to call you a coward or anything like that. So don't worry. You and Pam did quite well considering. Hell, they might even give you a medal."

Jim blushed a little at that thought. What on Earth would he do with a medal? But then he thought of his little daughter Cecelia and the thought of holding her on his knee and dangling a medal in front of her to play with gave him a warm sensation, almost as warm as holding her.

Both of the men chuckled and shook hands before Jim went back inside and went to his room where he collapsed onto the bed and fell right to sleep.

He was not a coward, he had survived this far and done a great deal, but he both of these men knew that Jim was not a soldier and could not take it thus Charles agreed to let him stay inside the perimeter. Even Oscar and Darryl were a bit shaken up by this, having been in a real firefight where people were mutilated, but they spent the night searching themselves and found a strong will to continue, but they did not regard Jim as a coward either. He had a lot to lose, perhaps more than they did with Pam and his daughter and mother in law. Perhaps, with time, he can regain his sense and go back on the line. Until then, he would remain inside.

In Shrute Farms Stanley and security guard Hank were still sitting on the front porch playing checkers and drinking from tall glasses of lemonade, not feeling any sense of emergency, though nearby Michael was put back into cuff but much more relaxed. He was seated in his own rocking chair gently rolling was he looked over at the other farm. Surprisingly he was quiet for most of the time as Phyllis and Bob Vance came out of the kitchen with supper for everyone. He had done well in talking and negotiating with Bryan, and Dwight said that once they began their trade then Michael would go and talk some more, but there was still the issue of the 'cute girl' that Bryan was asking. At first it was considered to be a joke, but Dwight, being serious as he always was, thought it was best to keep a strong face and use one but there were none to be had and inside the house he growled, "Why did Erin have to go with Charles?" All he had left were Kellye, Angela, Phyllis, and Madge.

Next to him Kevin and the dock workers were taking two large cardboard boxes and filling them with vegtables and fruit that had been stored in the basement. They were fresh and the crop was going to be harvested soon and they had plenty of canned and dried stuff remaining that they could afford these losses but Madge asked what they were to gain from this to which Dwight responded, "He'll see."

"What do you mean?" Madge asked.

"Don't worry about it."

Despite his growling Stanley and Hank continued playing checkers and they were seen by the lookouts in the towers all the way over at Zimmermann Farms whom were stunned that they were so lax and themselves were on guard. To the sentries' it just didn't appear right with their larger man power they were on duty and their neighbors were not, but once Bryan came back with the news that they had a deal with them there was a bit of ease, but still bitter resentment over the loss of several of their people and now the fear began to set inside of them that there were people out in the woods that will kill them thus Bryan restricted patrols to go out no further than half a mile from the base. He also was waiting on the trade to begin with Shrute Farms and was eager in anticipation for obtaining fresh fruit and vegetables as they were living on canned stuff and were not of the best quality and those that were in the barn were beginning to show signs of malnutrition, but despite their pleas he would not increase their rations or show them any sign of comfort for some reason. He didn't trusted Dwight and thought Michael was a sweet talker but why not just launch an attack? One, he knew that standing out in that open field, if he had cut down Michael, then they were be cut down in turn and those shadows that were out there in the forest, he did not know who they were or if they would come back and if they were allied with Dwight in some way. If Bryan and his men took of Shrute Farms by force, then the shadows might came and destroy them entirely. It was something that bothered him immensely as he was waiting for the trade to begin.

Near sunset Michael and Ryan appeared on the wall carrying one box each. Bryan and three men went out and they met in the middle. Placing the boxes on the ground and opening the flaps to show the contents Michael responded, "Well, what do you think?"

Looking through it to the bottom and not finding any traps or hidden explosives Bryan was satisfied that what he was seeing was real with oranges, beans, carrots, and tomatoes, potatoes, and radishes that will help his people.

"Sorry, though, we couldn't get a girl, like you wanted," Michael replied.

"Oh, don't worry about it," Bryan smirked waving his hand, "We got plenty. In fact, perhaps you like to impose a trade. I mean, two boxes of vegetables and you haven't asked for anything yet. Maybe now would be a good time. What would you like?"

Ryan's eyes flared up and grasping Michael's shoulder and whispering that now would be a good time to get a 'hot college girl," but Michael shook his head and said it would be wise to go back to Dwight and discuss the matter.

Agreeing they shook hands and both sides went their separate ways with Ryan grumbling all the while that they let a golden chance slip through their fingers.

Still keeping his eyes on the place Toby spent several hours as the sun was now dipping below the western horizon and the temperature began to decline with his eye to the scope of his rifle scanning over the area and was keeping count of all the people he could see and noted that the men in uniform were prodding people around in regular street clothes and had them perform manual labor and then ushered them back to the barn where they were kept under close guard.

He heard someone climbing up the ladder to the second floor loft and turned his head away from the scope to see Ryan's eyes peeking above the floor's surface and look at Toby and then around. "Hi, Ryan. What's up?" Roby asked.

"Have you seen Kellye?" he asked rather nervously.

"N-no, why?"

"Okay, I'm just going to hide up here for a while, 'kay?" climbing up the rest of the way.

A slight smile came across Toby's face, "Sure, I guess. I could use the company. I've been up here, by myself for hours and I can see right into their base…"

Ryan waved his hand, "Yeah, yeah, I'm going to get some sleep," ripping of his jacket and dropped himself onto a pile of hay and let out a long sigh of relief. He had been chased around by Kellye that was always nagging and always wanting to just talk and despite his efforts to keep her quiet short of hog tying or just shooting her but Ryan was not the kind of man to do that, though that basement in the main house would be a tempting place to just lock her away in there for a while.

As Ryan stretched out Toby looked back into his scope and could see the guards on the tower twist their heads to the north and were seemingly alerted by something and then a blinding flash forced Toby to wince away and when his eyes adjusted he saw the guards firing before the sounds of their discharges was heard.

The weapons fire drew the survivors of Shrute Farms outside clutching their weapons in anticipation of battle. Mounting the wall Dwight and Michael were looking towards Zimmermann Farms and could see the guard towers flaring from all the weapon fire but they were aiming at the tree line. It was wild and intense and there were cherry red tracers slicing into the dark tree line but there seemed to be nothing coming back. Looking through his binoculars Dwight could not see anything as the flashes were distorting his vision. Angela and Kellye came by his side but they were of no use, just asking what was going on. Dwight did not know until he could see a couple of shambling figures emerging from the trees.

All of the noise the show was causing was drawing the zombies through the forest. Their approach was clumsy and when they came out it was only a couple at a time that the guards could easily picked them off if they kept their heads but with all the fire being poured it seemed that there may be more zombies just the two that Dwight could see.

Looking at the open door to the barn's second floor loft Dwight called up, "Toby, what do your sharp eyes see?"

Carefully going over the area and then having to stand up and move to the back of the barn to the rear door Toby poked his head outside and could barely see anything different because of the thick tree line to the left and the Zimmermann farms to the right there was just a sliver of open ground between but putting the scope to his eye he could see shambling figures approaching the earthen wall. Running back to the front Toby called down, "They're zombies! Lots of them! All heading towards the other place!"

"To arms! To arms!" Dwight shouted and had everyone run to their positions and Angela ran inside to start up the emergency generator but the contraption, despite being fully fueled, would not start and she kept trying as Phyllis and Bob Vance ran out with their hands full of ammunition as Madge and the other dock workers took up their posts with their backs to the action and though having to guard the section of wall lining the only road to the farm and all the action behind them, they wanted to leave this place and go where the fighting was, however, leaving a position empty would allow anyone to infiltrate inside. Still there was grumbling as Madge did not like Dwight whom continued to think she was a man despite her and everyone else dropping a lot of weight and toning their figure with the manual labor.

After seeing that everyone was dispersed but still having no power Dwight went to the house to find out why when a brilliant flash and then a concussion pushed him forward and nearly lost his footing. Looking back a red mushroom was pillowing up to the crystal clear sky that was so massive it seemed to be bigger than the farm and with the mushroom cloud there were glints of metal tumbling into the air and just a couple of seconds metal began to rain down. A large chunk of a tower landed in front of the barn and ammo cans crashed onto the roof of the house.

"Oh my God" Kellye gasped as she watched the zombies pour into the perimeter.

"Awesome" Kevin exclaimed until he dropped to the ground to avoid lethal shards.

When the flash faded Toby put his eye back to the scope and could see a great deal of people running about with rifle fire and people being cut down but he could not fire because he couldn't tell who was who, but people were now scaling the walls and running towards Shrute Farms and some more running into the main house of Zimmermann farms as those in the towers continued to fire at the zombies pouring in. If those in the towers stayed up there then they would be safe; Zombies couldn't climb or find ways to knock them down such as a lumberjack to a tree but panic can make people do strange things as several mean climbed down to join those sprinting towards Shrute Farms.

"Open fire!" Dwight ordered and everyone on the wall looked at him as if he were crazy. There were people there, people that were not infected and amongst them were the zombies and all of them were heading towards them and in the near darkness they were just black shapes until Angela turned on the perimeter lights. Many people, as soon as the lights flashed in their faces, stopped in their steps and lifted up their hands to shield their eyes as the defenders opened fire.


	21. Chapter 21

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters to The Office. They are owned by MSNBC. I do own Charles and Jennifer. They are my creations.

People were sprinting as fast as their legs could take them across the open field towards Schrute Farms. Dozens of people; men, women, and children all intermixed together and what was spurring them was the wall of infected behind him, but everything was chaotic since the explosion that had torn about the neighboring Zimmermann Farms. Zombies began to swarm inside as Dwight and the other remaining office workers watched them flee. It was completely unexpected as before Dwight had agreed to trade with the people there and it was peaceful, but now the place seemed to be consumed by fire. The barn was relatively intact, but the household was abalze, there was a sizeable gap inside the makeshift wall surrounding the farm and one of the towers was knocked over.

Looking on from the ramparts of the earthen wall facing the open field and clutching her bible tightly to her chest Angela brushed away a few strands of her bright blonde hair with her jaw slacked. She could not understand anything that was happening and didn't know what to do as she watched people running in every direction. Calmly standing beside her, clutching his rifle in his hanging arms was Dwight looking at the flames behind his slightly chipped glasses but showing no expression despite the excitement around him. "Dwight? Dwight?" Angela was heard calling out, "W-what are we going to do?" but there was no response from the German until the petite accountant reached out with her right hand and her fingers brushed over his left hand that sent a charge of electricity through his body.

"Dwight! What are we going to do?"

"Turn on some lights!" the spectacled owner shouted.

Still in the second floor loft of the barn Toby was looking at the dark figures as they were making their way across the field, but with the darkness and the flames that cast dancing shadows he could not tell whom was whom until the power lights activated and flooded the field and instantly many people halted in their steps holding up their hands up to shield their eyes. Now he could see he went to work picking off shambling figures pursuing them. The distance was not extreme, he just had to give a little bit of lead and he found it easy to pick them off. Now he was getting into being a sharpshooter as he dropped one zombie after the other all the while muttering to himself trying to keep a count. When he had expended five shots he calmly reloaded his rifle, "Alright, let's do it," he said and put the rifle stock back to his shoulder. Correcting his posture and feeling his elbows and hands relax he eye wandered the field looking for targets and that was where he found a man in a shabbily made uniform, swinging a broken rifle left to right in a wide arc fending off several zombies closing on him.

"Uh oh" Toby whispered. He could see the man was screaming, his mouth was moving but with the distance and noises around he could not hear what it was. "What do we got here?" he was wearing a uniform, perhaps he was Militia so he did not care if anything happened to him so he went looking for another target and found a furiously crawling one about halfway across the field and quickly put a round into its head. Toby felt safe up there. Even if the zombies came into the perimeter they couldn't get to him up in the loft so he was smiling as he slayed the zombies, but below Michael was horrified, shouting "Oh my God!" as the fire picked up but he did not panic, instead jogged to the house where he found Dwight, "Okay, Dwight," before pausing for a moment and looking up at the patio, "What do you need me to do?"

Kevin and Hank were firing their rifles, trying to remember their training as the people were rushing towards them. "Hank, do we shoot everyone?" he was becoming confused by the excitement as they had fought a horde before but not with live people mixed in.

"No," Hank replied with a grunt as he looked for himself to see several people clustered below him, pleading to be let over the wall, but the wall was too steep for them to scale. They needed a ladder.

"Hank, should I get a ladder to help them?" Kevin asked looking over the lip himself to see women hugging their children as the zombies continued to shamble towards them. Hank did not know what to do. There was the risk that they were infected and the wall was the barrier that kept them out but he could not let these people out there die.

"Hey, Dwight, should we help them?" Kevin shouted that carried over to Dwight on the patio whom mustered into action by darting across the open ground to the wall and climbed up onto the embattlements as his people banged away. The zombies were coming out of the tree line to the left and from the Zimmermann farms in overwhelming numbers, but the disciplined fire from the defenders was taking down many. Looking over the wall Dwight could see several people huddled below and calling out to be saved.

"Please!" one woman shouted, "For God's sake, help my babies!"

Standing upright back Dwight called out, "Kevin, Madge, Hank!" it took a moment for all three to pull themselves away to join him, "Drop a ladder and get those people in here," pointing down below, "Get them inside and check them and if they're infected, shoot them."

He was gambling but none of them, not even the rigid Dwight, could face the fact of leaving innocent people out there to die despite his façade of 'only the strongest survive'. Watching the show Dwight knew that sooner or later they would run out of ammunition and all of their fire was merely drawing more zombies towards them. Before they had air support that saturated the area with napalm but they did not have that benefit this time and when it comes that they run out of lead and powder then the only thing keeping the zombies out were the earthen walls.

Taking a fifteen foot ladder from the barn Hank and Madge dropped it down the other side of the wall and waved for everyone to come in. They were stretched out along the length of the wall facing Zimmermann Farms but there was only going to be one ladder and they all came converging towards the steel as soon as they saw it pushing and shoving one another out of the way even one man knocking a child off to save his own skin. With the fire still going on the first people began to come over but Madge immediately began pushing and prodding them towards the interior after stripping any visible weapons from their hands with Hank as well. One by one they came over, but the fire did not stop. Toby counted up to thirty-two when he saw people coming over and looked at them for a moment before going back to work.

Ryan and Kellye were in the interior as well when they saw the rescue people being prodded towards them and their faces had a look of confusion. Why were they hear? They could not hear Dwight's orders on the wall, nor could they see them. In fact, Ryan and Kelly were not supposed to be there at all but on the opposite side of the perimeter, but Ryan decided to defy Dwight's orders and went towards where the action was as Kellye was spurring him to perform great acts of bravery with a string of movies that she drew inspiration from.

The same woman that before was pleading for help was holding her two children in each arm was now thanking everyone that she met along the way. Instructed to sit down and be searched she did not like someone touching her children but when two rifles are looking down at her, the woman did not do anything else, but Madge was gentle with them and her children were right back with their mother as more prisoners were brought in. They were mainly civilians with ragged clothes, shoeless, and had a foul stench.

Dwight commanded, "Madge! Check them and see if they're infected."

"I'm already doing that" Madge replied as she went to work. The militia were kept seperate and checked for weapons and had their blouses removed and their heads covered in burlap bags and wrists cuffed to prevent an escape. For the civilians it was different. They were wide eyed and fearful that these people would shoot them out of hand or treat them like the milita, but Madge assured them that they weren't like that.

They managed to save a few but many others that could not make it to the ladder, the zombies fell upon them and tore them apart with surprising fury as the office workers looked upon them with horror as they withdrew the ladder. They fired several times but every zombie they took down, three others would advance and take its place.

One man was dragging himself on his back, using his legs to kick himself towards Shrute Farms as several zombies were approaching at a quicker pace all the while he was pleading for help, bt no help came. Finally the zombies caught up to him and ripped him apart. Dwight looked upon the field of carnage with a stone face though inside he was shaken and disgusted he was trying to keep a stern face and not let those around him become infected by panic. "Cease fire" he called out but with the dozens of reports around him he had to scream "CEASE FIRE!"

The fire petered out but the chorus of the undead was still heard as they were consuming victims at the base of the wall. Turning to Stanley on the wall, Dwight said, "Use the Molotov cocktails and burn these things."

Taking several bottles filled with the oil/gasoline mixture and lighting the wick Stanley and Toby looked down upon the orgy of violence below, there were contorted faces looking up at them as the zombies ripped out their insides and devoured their muscles and flesh. "Holy shit, man" Toby said in amazement as the stench reached his nose. With the wick lit he merely had to drop it and the bottle smashed onto the back of one undead and immediately ignited consuming one and the liquid flame flowed onto the others and the defenders watched in amazement as the zombies continued to eat undeterred to the flames eating them up.

Erin's Diary,

_Had a rather usual day. Did some guard duty. Haven't seen a zombie around here for a long time, but I did see some birds and a deer! Inside I could hear Charles, Jennifer, and the soldiers talking about stuff they wanted to do. Charles wanted to go on another patrol into the woods and to check up on Dwight. During the night we heard gunfire and they weren't answering their radio, but we wouldn't go during the night. I slept and woke up with Jennifer telling me I was going with them. Great! I get to stretch my legs and get to see Phyllis again, though I'm worried about Dwight. During the past week or so, I've heard his voice on the radio when he checks in and they've become-weird. He sounds like he's, I don't know how to say it, but he sounds like what happened when he became the temporary manager of the branch, real stern and direct. I heard Charles say he may have reached his breaking point but I don't know. Maybe it's Dwight just being Dwight. I keep my fingers crossed. :)_

After several attempts to get Dwight or anyone at Schrute Farms to answer the radio at sunrise the group headed out from their safe house. Oscar and Jim and most of the military personnel they rescued were staying behind to watch over the place as Charles, Darryl, Pam, Erin, Jennifer and McCarthy volunteered to go out. All of them wore tiger-stripe uniforms to break up their outline, for Pam and Erin they wore Jennifer's old ones for Darryl they had to alter one for his size.

The day was bright, the sky blue and the grass soft and green there were even butterflies hovering about. It was certainly spring around now in Pennsylvania. Erin could remember when she was shivering in the cross from her vehicle to the office park front entrance, but in their march to reach Shrute Farms they were under strict noise discipline but that did not stop Erin from looking at the flowers and the birds that were chirping in the trees. It was so peaceful out here but she only had to look forward at the green and black striped uniforms of her comrades to shake her naïve disposition and bring her back to the serious nature that she was in. Approaching Shrute Farms they could see very thin columns of black smoke rising up from what was left of Zimmermann Farms and the field between the two dotted with the bodies of the unfortunate.

Pausing and taking a knee behind a slight rise to conceal their approach Charles was looking through his binoculars as the group hid themselves.

"What happened?" Erin asked in a whisper to Pam.

"I don't know," was the response. Both could see the smoke and when Charles saw familiar faces on the walls he gave the order to rise and approach.

Going towards the front 'gate' which was still the chained together vehicles Madge appeared with her rifle as well as the challenge, but seeing the familiar face of Darryl she immediately welcomed them inside. As they climbed in Madge tells Darryl, "I'm glad you're here. That asshole is getting out of control."

"What do you mean?" Darryl asked.

Pointing with one hand Madge led the way towards the front of the house where the people they took in during the night and being hovered over by Dwight, Kevin, and Hank however it was Dwight that they seemed to be afraid of. Having been stripped of their weapons and having segregated the Militia from the civilians Dwight wanted to take a bunch of them and have them shot immediately, but as it turned out Dwight wanted to have a bunch of the 'weaklings' he considered to be shot and keep the stronger ones alive, meaning the militia. The weapons collected were stacked on the porch. Ryan was looking through them, trying to find anything cool looking that would give him a better image. Those that fell outside the wall were left to rot in the sun. All that mattered was that they were inside and safe and everyone else was out there and dead.

"We need to separate the weak from the strong. Now, only they can survive," Dwight kept saying as his group looked at him confused. For several hours they had been denied food and water and the prisoners were becoming restless having people standing over them with rifles and hearing the threat of being shot. Dwight had waited for dawn so the perimeter could be cleared. The zombies did not breach the walls but they were many, perhaps well over five hundred either cut down in the field or burned up at the base of the wall that took a great amount of their ammunition as well as fuel for the Molotovs, still the stench of burnt flesh was pungent in the air that many took to wearing surgical masks to keep their nostrils clear, it didn't work. Angela and Phyllis tried to give the children water but Dwight immediately snatched it away from them. "Dwight, for God's sake, they're just children!" Phyllis cried.

"They need to learn to adapt," Dwight spat back.

"Dwight, this is nonsense, give the kids some water. They're children," Bob Vance said sternly, but Dwight wouldn't be shaken from his position. The whole group was gathered, except for Toby he decided to stay up in the loft and stay out of the argument but also to keep his eyes open. Even Mose was on the porch watching in silence as Ryan and Kellye were somewhere in the middle twisting their heads left to right when others spoke, but not saying a word in defense or contempt. Dwight was the de facto leader with his office mates being his underlings, however, they wouldn't give in to his threats even though if one was murdered there would be no police to arrest him. He grabbed one frail man from the group and dragged him away.

"Dwight, what's wrong with you?" Phyllis shouted, "These people need food and water. They look like they haven't eaten in days," her voice was straining because her eyes were on the malnourished children the woman was clutching in both arms.

"It's true!" the mother shouted, "We haven't eaten in days," then her blue eyes turned in a wicked glare towards the militia man that were bound and hooded away from them. "They took us, beat us and starved us and did...horrible things. Please, shoot them! Not us!"

Bob Vance looked at the woman and asked for her name.

"Sylvia," she replied, her voice breaking, "I'm Sylvia and this is Bobby and Victoria," still holding tightly to her children. Bobby was five with long, swirled brown hair and Victoria had longer, slightly darker brown hair in a messy ponytail. Bob Vance smiled and stood near them to assure that he and Phyllis would not harm them but the same couldn't be said for Dwight as he placed the man on his knees before the towering German.

"Dwight, don't do it, man. Don't do it," Michael said holding out a hand and taking a step forward, but Dwight put the gun to his head. All eyes were focused on Dwight as he had the weapon pointed right at the back of his head but was hesitating from pulling the trigger. In his mind he knew what he was doing was right, but for some reason he wouldn't do it as he heard the man sob loudly and praying, but did not try to resist. The women were shielding the eyes of the children and no one was moving with their eyes open and their jaws hanging open in amazement. This wasn't like Dwight at all. He was strict, but even this was too much. He had clearly gone off the deep end, but he was only one man in a sea of many and no one was forcing him to stop. The hammer was cock but he couldn't pull the trigger. "S-should we do something?" Kevin whispered to Hank. Even he was too scared to do anything.

"Dwight! Dwight!" Charles barked and pushed his way through the statues until he was right before the German, "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Lowering the pistol and looking at the soldier with a leer in his eyes, "Stay out of this. This is my house, my property. You can't tell me what to do here," Dwight replied without breaking an emotion.

"Bullshit!" Charles yelled and slammed the stock of his rifle right against Dwight's jaw and sent him sprawling onto the ground and immediately the soldier pounced upon him slamming his fists against the unconscious man several times until Darryl and Jennifer had to pry him off.

"Charlie, that's enough!" Jennifer shouted. The others looked on in shock as Dwight lay with blood flowing freely from his nose and mouth.

After several silent moments Kevin finally said something, "Is he dead?"

Dwight's eyes finally fluttered open. His glasses were broken and laying at his side and his jaw pained him. Sitting up slowly he couldn't see Charles, his vision was blurred by the blows and by the loss of his glasses, but he remembered what happened. "That's it!" growling, "Shoot him!" stabbing a finger at a blur he believed to be Charles. He was calling for everyone to shoot him. "Shoot that man for assaulting me." Jennifer clutched her rifle tightly and looked at the other faces. No one dared move.

Fumbling around in the dirt and finding his glasses and putting them on, the vision was distorted but it was an improvement, he saw that no one was going through with his order. These were his subjects, he commanded them, he trained them and he expected to have his orders carried out without question. "Shoot him! When I give an order, I expect it to be obeyed, instantly!" screeching with his finger stabbing towards the restrained Charles. "Kevin! Shoot him!"

Looking at Dwight and then at Charles with a simple flick of his head Kevin did not obey instead just turned and looked away as if losing interest.

"Stanley! Shoot him," Dwight ordered but the officermate did not instead walked back onto the patio and sat down not wanting any part of this conflict. Dwight looked at him go and then turned to Mose whom had disappeared. His hands empty of weapons and standing before a restrained but still armed Charles Dwight roared that he wanted him dead, but no one dared to move.

Angela finally said something, "Dwight...I don't think they're going to do it." She wasn't carrying a weapon at all, just her bible. Throughout the whole ordeal she had not so much as fired a shot but hung to his bible as though it were a shield. Erin looked at her with wide eyes, her lips trembled as did her hands as she kept looking at everyone wondering if something bad was going to happen. McCarthy whispered to her, "This is bad" and there was a slight 'click' as McCarthy's thumb hit the selector switch to 'semi' on her rifle. She didn't know these people and was expecting a shootout and slowly began to trace round the civilian prisoners and moving towards the militia prisoners as it cleared her line of sight. Not knowing what to do herself Erin watched her go and carefully began to follow as Dwight continued to spew his vial orders.

"This is mutiny!" Dwight screamed, but no one came to his aid. Then he reached for something in his sock and Erin immediately leapt in. Everyone was surprised. The usually frail girl was meek but she knocked Dwight back down onto the ground with a shot to the gut with the butt of her rifle then rolled him onto his stomach and tried to zip cuff him but Dwight struggled and got one hand around Erin's throat and tried to squeeze, but McCarthy came and punched him in the face as hard as she could that made Dwight pass out again.

"Thank you," Erin sighed as they got the cuffs on.

"Don't sweat it," McCarthy smiled back. Her new friend saved her life! She was definately writing this down in her journal later.

Charles kept an eye on Dwight, his hands gripping his rifle tightly. In the scuffle the pistol was knocked from Dwight's grasp and was now in Jennifer's possession as she went to the civilians and asked what they needed with Erin. Both women loved children so their smiles returned to instill confidence in the frightened people.

Finally they were given food, water, and medical attention. The children were also allowed to take a bath using an outdoor tub and warm water boiled on the stove., but the longer they stayed the more Erin sensed that they weren't going to stay.

"I don't want to stay here," Angela replied to Jennifer in the kitchen, "It's-too-it's too crowded."

Their properly built safe house was small to begin with and she doubted that they would be able to take all of these people including the prisoners, but doubted that if they stayed here Dwight would be able to keep himself under control. It was something to ponder as Erin walked about freely and saw Michael on the front porch.

"Hey, Michael, look, you're free!" she said giddy.

At first Michael didn't recognize her, "What's with that...uniform and that?" pointing at the waving black stripes over a field of dark green and light brown.

"Oh, this?" she replied plucking at the collar, "This is so we blend into the surroundings. We're pretty good at it to. We've had a lot of training."

"Oh," Michael nodded, "So, you're becoming a soldier?"

Erin was surprised for a moment, "Oh, no, just to, you know, help protect everyone at our place. See, we have to pull our wait and we need to know how to fight."

Michael calmly nodded alogn with her, "Well, you look, nice," smiling, "I-I just couldn't see you in something like that. It's just surprising, but you're looking good. Glad to see you're safe with Charles and...What's her name?"

"Jennifer"

"Yeah, Jennifer. She's a real hottie. Is she his wife?" Michael asked.

"No, just close friends."

"Oh, just friends," he continued to nod.

With a smirk Erin replied, "Don't think about it, Michael. They're very protective of each other.

Speaking of Jennifer, she was talking to Charles in the living room of the house to try and solve the problem. They couldn't leave the civilians here with Dwight as he might shoot them, but their place was too small to house them, "We can call to have them evacuated to Rhode Island." It certainly was tempting but just getting back to their safe house was dangerous enough, but he decided to do it. Using the farm's radio Jennifer called back to Jim that they were on their way back and to make preparations for more quests.

During that time everyone else in the group, excluding Dwight and Mose were allowed to pack up their belongings and form up in the yard. They would have to march, it would be tough, but they could do it. Sylvia and her children were ready with Jennifer and Erin's help as well as Michael's. The militia would come as well. They were too valuable and too deadly to leave behind. Dwight though was protesting this from the kitchen where McCarthy had had him tied up to the stove. On her way out she saw Mose whom nearly bolted but said sternly, "You don't let him out until we are gone for three hours. Got that?" she said staring coldly at him. She was kicking herself for not shooting Dwight when she had a clear shot before Charles got in the way. Perhaps the world would be better with the German gone, but accepted the decision. After stepping off the porch she joined the group and said to Erin, "I'm already tired of this place."

Giving food and water to them as well as tending to the inured as best they could beforehand Charles said, "Okay, everyone form up. We're moving out," The prisoners were bound and placed with the civilians in the center and the patrol and office workers around with Jennifer at point. There was not a word spoken as the chained vehicles were moved away to make a path. They had been riddled by shot and drained of fuel thus they were useless now. it was going to be a long trek with a bunch of tired and shabbily looking people. They kids had to walk as well. As they were leaving Dwight could only listen as his office mates deserted him but he did not try to stop them. His cousin looked on as well from one of the windows. Not a word was spoken as the group filtered out and disappeared into the countryside.

Jim and Oscar were moving furniture out of the way when the sentry shouted that there was a visual on the patrol. When the gate was opened everyone came inside and looked at how well cared for everything was. the grass was green, the garden in bloom, ready to be plucked, and it was well protected, though small. "Wow, it's is great," Hank replied as he looked at the concrete walls.

Erin and McCarthy went up to their room together where Erin took out her diary. Down below they could hear the voices of many others trying to square everything away. Chances are they would be having a roommate or two soon so they wanted to make room, but Erin wanted to write down some things while it was fresh in her mind,

_ Erin's Diary,_

_We went to Dwight's farm and they were attacked by zombies but they're okay. From what I saw those guys that were at the other farm, well, I'm not sure what happened to them but they were inside Dwight's farm as prisoners and when we arrived Dwight was raving and was about to shoot this one guy but Charles stopped him and beat him up. I was so scared. Then Dwight got up and went for something in his pant leg and I rushed in and knocked him down. It was awesome. I felt like Wonder Woman, you know, just knocking him down. I guess the training did come in handy, but then he tried to choke me but McCarthy hit him again. She hits pretty hard. I really like my new friend. She's awesome. I'm glad we're roommates. We got back okay and we have a lot more people now. Phyllis is here, yay, and so is her husband and some new faces. It's going to be pretty cramped her, but Jennifer said that many of them are going to be out of here in a few days. Oh, and they're kids here to. I love kids, but I feel sorry for Dwight. We left him and his cousin by themselves. I feel safe but I feel sorry for Dwight._


	22. Chapter 22

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters to The Officer. They are owned by MSNBC. I do own Charles and Jennifer. They are my creation.

A great migration emerged from Shrute Farms following a series of unfortunate events that forced the people to leave for their safety. Dwight had finally snapped mentally and attempted to execute a seemingly innocent civilian that had fled from the neighboring Zimmermann Farms. A great many questions had not been answered, but there was no time to do so. They took what meager possessions they had and marched out with Charles, Erin, and others towards the safety of Charles' solace, a safe house a few kilometers away. It was a trying journey with the famished and injured and with them were several militia prisoners whom were arrested and prodded along with their boots removed. Charles' group had been training for this, but were still worried about moving with such a large group including prisoners but both Erin and Pam were just happy to be outside the walls and seeing the gorgeous countryside. The sun was warming their backs and they felt a light breeze flowing over the tops of the trees as their boots stomped on the green grass on the shoulder of the road.

Erin felt her body tremble, it was the adrenalin wearing off following the surge when she scuffled with Dwight and her friend McCarthy came to help her. She never thought she would do such a thing, taking down an armed man, but she did and there was a smile on her lips as she marched along the others as the sun crawled higher into the sky and warmed the backs of their necks. The children with them were hungry and though given food Charles did not wish for them to scarf everything down. In their famished state eating so much would kill them as it had happened to many others, they were given a few pieces of bread and meat and a little bit of water that would be enough for them to walk a ways.

Erin kept looking back at the diminishing vision of Schrute Farms and felt her heart sinking knowing that they were leaving Dwight and his cousin Mose. Even though he had done many strange and sometimes insane things she couldn't help but feel sorry for him in the end, but did not wish to go back.

Marching, marching, marching more, the footsteps of the tired and the weary were carrying on through the empty countryside, the heat was rising and the people were becoming tired, so tired that they pleaded for rest and Charles relented and took them into the shade of a grove of trees where he calculated their distance and raised the others at their safe house of their progress. Jim answered and immediately wanted to know if Pam was alright above all else then asked whom else they were bringing back. He was surprised to know they were bringing back everyone except Dwight and his cousin and now became troubled that they would be able to house everyone thus they had to put into motion a plan to get them out of here, especially the prisoners.

Erin sat down next to the children whom clutched to their mother and opened up her pack and gave them a packet of wheat snack bread from an MRE that they ripped apart to eat then gave them some water. They were grateful and wanted more but Erin had to say no. She hated to be like that, denying them food, but she had to.

The column was on the move again, it was less than a kilometer away now and the office workers were glad to be out, stretching their legs having been inside the confines of the farm for so long they had forgotten what it was like outside. Even though the horror of the zombies was hanging over them for a while they actually forgot about it as they marched along the shoulder of a dirt road that winded towards the left towards the hidden solace.

Erin and her friend Specialist McCarthy were still bonding when they were given their new roommate; it was the mother of the two children named Laura. Her children were sleeping in an adjacent room, but she was so overcome with worry that she kept checking in on them constantly. There was a level of curious and fear amongst the new arrival, the militia prisoners were forced to stay outside and were to perform manual labor. One of them protested, "This violates the Geneva Convention! We are prisoners of war."

"Who are you fighting?" McCarthy asked him.

"The United States of Tyranny"

"Well then, you don't work you don't eat," Jennifer replied.

The prisoners continued to spout; however, the guards ignored them but kept their weapons on them. Any escape was not impossible however the prisoners didn't try to even talk to one another as their supposed leader of the group, a man was wearing butter bars was kept away from them and placed on the other side of the compound to prevent him from organizing resistance or escape.

"This is your place?" Phyllis asked as she walked around the interior of the walled compound and was amazed to see that everything was so neat and tidy, "It's lovely." The grass was green, there were vegetables growing in the garden and fruit in the trees and the water they had was clean and they didn't have to use a dirty well and the smell was great as the wind came in and spilled over the high wall and bounced around inside.

"Let's get everyone inside and get them some blankets and find them some rooms," Jennifer called out as she approached the front porch. Behind her came Phyllis hold the hands of her husband and then Angela and then Kellye and Ryan. The inside was also beautiful, according to Phyllis. Though not well decorated, it was clean with the furniture polished and organized. She wanted to see all of the rooms as Jennifer ushered them to head upstairs to the closet with the extra linen.

It was going to be very crowded with all of these new people, but they could manage. There was the mother and her two children, whom also needed to be cleaned and fed, their small bodies were thin and they were groaning and unable to stand thus their tired mother carried them both with her noodle like arms.

"Here, let me help you" Erin said in the dining room. The mother seated them on the table where Erin was able to tend to them. Their clothes were near rags thus she asked Jennifer if they had anything for them, but they did not. None of the clothes they did have would fit them thus they had to improvise.

Seeing their haggard appearance Erin asked the mother, "How long did you say you went without eating?"

"Days" she replied with a growl as she pulled the shoes off her children, "Days…" she was upset but not towards Erin. Her face turned to a painful smile towards the former receptionist, "Thank you again for getting us out of there. By the way, who was that crazy guy?"

"Which one?" Erin scoffed as she took the tiny shoes and put them on the floor between them.

"The one with the glasses and the gun. He was going to shoot Teddy."

Not knowing whom Arnold was Erin put it together in her mind that Arnold must be the man that Dwight was going to execute, "Oh, that must be Dwight. Yeah, he or rather 'we' use to work together back in Scranton at Dunder Mifflin."

"What's that?" the mother replied.

"Oh we were an office supply store" Erin responded as Phyllis walked behind them carrying an arm load of linen and pillows for Bob Vance and herself," You know, like Office Max but much, much better," before giving a little chuckle.

The mother laughed as well, "Still, thank you for getting us out of there."

As grateful as she was Kellye though didn't seem to be so pleased with her new surroundings. As she clutched onto the sleeve of Ryan as they slowly walked about the inner walls of their new fort and bitterly protested this, "Ryan, I don't like this place. It's too green and what is that smell? This place is filthy…" going on and on about this drove the others away but Ryan was still stuck with her.

However, Michael though seemed to have improved mentally. Charles and Jennifer wanted to put him back in lock up or at least tethered so he could be looked over, but the others that were with him attested that he was the one that smoothed over negotiations with those at Zimmermann Farms, but Jennifer wanted to keep someone on him at all times.

Kevin was going about to see everything, the reinforced concrete walls, the solid steel sliding main gate the only way in or out, the tops of the walls with razor wire and on the roof of the house were the antennas of the radios. "This is awesome," he smiled, "This place is so much better than Dwight's," but he was also saying that while looking at Jennifer as she was emerging back outside. It was warm out and the walls were largely preventing the wind from spilling inside, but the shade of the trees was giving them ample shade and giving the survivors a great deal of relaxation, but they kept their weapons close. Though having not seen a single zombie for some time Jennifer and the others staying in her place were wondering if the menace was actually gone, but the arrivals from Schrute Farms demonstrated that it wasn't so.

zombies were still up and about as so were the militia. They all spoke of the night as they watched an explosion rock Zimmermann Farms and people fleeing for their lives. Toby had a better view of the battle described what he saw, people fleeing into the woods and didn't come back and the people pleading at the base of the wall and he saw the mother and her children and cleared his thought a bit before quietly excusing himself. He didn't relate his part in the battle, though he kept his hunting rifle with him slung around his left arm. He carried it so much it became a part of him and going to the garage he found himself a seat and began taking his weapon apart and cleaning it.

About that time Jim came by the open garage to get himself some gardening tools when he noticed the usually quiet Toby sitting with a dirty cloth draped on the concrete floor and his hunting rifle disassembled on it and he taking a stiff bristle brush and cleaning the bolt, all the while humming to himself. Jim wanted to say something but seeing Toby this way rather unnerved him for some reason thus he slinked away to join Pam back inside the house. Jennifer was taking people and assigning them rooms, though normally just for two people some rooms had to have three, but it would only be for a short time. McCarthy and Erin would have the mother stay with them and the children would get the living room that was open that allowed them to run about, but the mother was rather reluctant to have her children so far away. She didn't trust these people wholly thus when given her linen and pillow plus some new clothes she threw them all in the room and went to her children and sat with them as they ate their first real meal that was prepared for them by Oscar, Mexican fajitas using a recipe his grandmother had given him. From the kitchen there was Oscar humming and lightly singing to himself in Spanish, but the exact words were lost on anyone drawing close enough, what they did sense was the hovering aroma of thick cuts of simmering beef and vegetables doused in spices that the one man Dwight threatened to shoot, whom said his name was Theodore, or Teddy, like the rough Rider, was waiting eagerly with his mouth watering.

Charles used this time to speak with the new arrivals and ask what they knew about the militia. He started with Teddy as he was greedily drinking glasses of water, "I can honestly say," he began nervously, "I am absolutely afraid of them. I kid you not. They have guns. Guns galore! I don't know where they got them, no sir, but they have machine guns, cannons, and I swear I saw myself a tank."

"Where was this?" Charles said taking a small pad of paper and writing all of this down.

"Just outside Pittsburg" Teddy nodded before gulping down another glass of water. Charles said to him that was enough, that drinking this much would make him sick, but the dried out man couldn't help it. He was in his fifties but had the appearance of a man in his eighties the way his skin was hanging from his bones, hair matted and his movements rather stiff and slow. "Just west of there, yeah," he continued, "I was leaving, trying to get to my wife when I ran into, uh, that's that word?"

"Roadblock?"

"Yeah, that's it," he nodded. "They took me out of the car, threw me with some of the others and put a hood over my eyes. Don't remember seeing much, but what I did say earlier was true. I saw that when they took off my hood to ask me questions like you're doing now, sir." He spoke rather quickly, his body trembled. He was scared.

Taking the pad of paper Charles said, "Look, it will take a while till Oscar is ready. Why don't you get yourself some new clothes and get yourself a shower. You do need it. Then you can eat."

"Yes, sir" Teddy nodded.

Erin was still shaking from the fight. She couldn't believe that she did that, tackling a man and actually beating him. She was normally the shy and meek woman in the office but with this she felt empowered, confident. Something she was not entirely used to. She found Andy waiting outside the house, looking at the walls and the trees with his hands thrusted into his pockets, but seeing him, despite their pasts, Erin threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly, and thankful he was still alive.

"Hey, Erin. How's it going?" Andy asked.

Pulling away a bit Erin, still wearing the tiger stripe jungle camp Erin brushed away a couple strands of her dark hair from her eyes that hung underneath her matching bucket cover and smiled, "Oh, it's going great" rather excited. "You're going to like it here, Andy. We have everything. It's so cool. Jennifer and Charles are real nice. They trained us and we even took out a lot of zombies. So have I!" she then turned a quarter to her right and punched the air with a heavy blow "POW!" then retracted her arm and turned to Andy, still smiling.

"That's great, Erin," Andy replied though he was happy there was something behind his face showing that he was still troubled by something and after a moment Erin realized it himself.

"What's wrong?"

"Oh, nothing" he tried to say, but he broke a bit, "It's Gabe. I'm..."

"It still bothers you?" she whispered.

"Yeah, it does. I mean, I was there. I couldn't help him. I know that you and him were dating but...Erin, I tried to help him..." he went on but Erin just hugged the man, and he hugged her back.

The new arrivals bathed and were fed. Bobby and Victoria were bouncing about, running from room to room chasing one another and were exploring their new surroundings as Hank and Stanley sat on the porch with their weapons watching the militia prisoners by the front gate whom were sitting in the grass with nothing to do.

Inside Charles called everyone together for a group meeting in the dining room as Oscar announced that it was time for dinner and everyone came running. Michael was just in the corridor on the second floor where the bedrooms were and caught Jim as he was leaving his bedroom that he shared with Pam. "Jim, how come you go when he calls a group meeting," Michael complained in a low, whisper like voice, "you go immediately, but when I do it you don't?"

"Ah, well, Michael" Jim tried to say. He stood and folded his arms in front of his flat stomach and looked about as if searching for the answers written on the walls before he heard Pam's voice a calling out from the next room, "Gotta go."

Erin had just cracked her diary open and scribbled just a few sentences before hearing the call for the meeting, but she wanted to write this down before it was forgotten,

_Andy is here with us! I'm so happy. We have a lot to catch up on. He's still troubled with Gabe. He feels he could have done more, but feels that because of him and me that may have affected his judgment, but I told him that he needs to move on. We can go over this later. Oh, and he thinks I look sexy in uniform ;)_


	23. Chapter 23

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters to The Officer. They are owned by MSNBC. I do own Charles and Jennifer. They are my creation.

_Dear Diary. Hi, it's Erin. Just incase you forgot. :) It's been a few days since I last wrote. Things here have gotten a bit busy and confusing. We're still at Jennifer and Charles' place but with all of those people from Dwight's farm there are so many new faces. We have some prisoners with us that are always under guard. I had to watch them a few times and they looked at me and I could just see that they were trying to do something, thinking I was going to be a push over because I look like a meek person. well, I was but I feel stronger now. Jennifer and Charles have really taught me a lot and I have more confidence in myself to do things. I can handle a gun and a rifle! I've gone hunting and I can name edible plants and all of that. Kelly is here with me but she is no where near as fun as McCarthy! Bunking together we are bonding much more that we seem to be joined at the hip that we do almost everything together! Oh, it's time for me to go on watch. Until next time :)_

Closing her diary and putting it away Erin rose up from her bed and carefully tip toed around the bed, past her sleeping friend and their new roommate the mother and her two children. Taking her rifle with her with her TA-50 Erin emerged in the hallway and closed the door behind and went downstairs to find Charles and Jennifer still up, sitting at the table talking in whispers so that they didn't disturb everyone else. Coming down and seeing them all three were smiling as Erin had to go outside, in the cold. The temperature had dropped to forty degrees and there was a ten mile per hour wind from the west further plunging the thermometer but as the former receptionist was about to go out into it Jennifer said for her to stop, rose up from her chair and took down a thick scarf from a jacket hook next tot he front door.

"Here. Allow me" Jennifer replied smiling and carefully wrapped up Erin's face except her large, brown eyes. Erin couldn't help but feel that she was being dressed up before going to school the way Jennifer's delicate touch and soft smile before having Erin go outside in the cold. Darryl was the sentry on duty on the roof top and Hank and Creed were suppose to be watching over the prisoners-there had to be two guards on the prisoners at all times. Going to the ladder leading to the roof Erin looked up to see Darryl looking down and giving a small wave showing that he was still awake. It was hard to stay focused with the biting, chilling, wind but their watches were only two hours long and Erin was fully rested. Climbing up she nodded to Darryl, 'Go to go!" leaving Darryl surprised still at her eagerness.

"Alright, girl" he couldn't help but laugh, "You got this." Then he went down the ladder as quickly as possible to get back inside to warm himself and to sleep. on the roof Erin could barely see as her eyes still had not adjusted to the dim light. The moon was in its last quarter and there was a heavy cloud cover shielding most of the stars but in a few minutes she could vaguely see the tree line in the distance around their safe house and the rolling but clear fields in between. There had not been a zombie in this area for days now and the group was starting to feel a bit complacent, but with the new people Erin began to think about what Charles and Jennifer were discussing since their arrival about an evacuation to Rhode Island. The others knew of this. Pam was eager because that was where her mother and Cecelia was and some of the others wanted to be a larger place with more security but people like Erin liked this place. Here, it was quiet, no zombies, and in this small group she felt useful. She could do virtually anything that the others could, like Darryl. She could work, fight, grow, but if she went to Rhode Island's safe zone her future was uncertain. She might just sit and wait out this war in a tent or be put to work digging or worse yet behind a desk and seemingly forgotten. It worried Erin so much that a couple days prior to this she was sitting in her room hiding behind her long, light brown hair, like she use to do as a child when she wanted to be safe, she retreated behind her hair until McCarthy sat down next to her and wouldn't go away. McCarthy herself was an only child and always wanted a sister so she kept hammering at Erin-lightly teasing her until Erin finally came out from behind her hair to share her sadness. "I don't want to leave" Erin confessed.

"I don't want to either" McCarthy replied with a smile on her thin, pink lips, "But, if we do have to leave, well, I have to go as well. I'm still in the Army, so I have to go where I'm ordered."

"Doesn't it get dull," Erin asked, "Being told where to go and what to do?"

"It does for awhile" McCarthy sighed, "I mean, I get told to do a lot of things and I knew sometimes I get told to do things because, well, I'm a woman, and some guys look down upon me because of that. Some of them seem to think that we can't handle combat or can't be put on the front line because they think we'll be a distraction for the men, or something like that."

Erin was looking at her with surprise and unable to say anything. McCarthy wasn't raging, her voice was still the soft, nominal tone. "But, you know what? They also said that blacks couldn't handle being pilots and that Japanese couldn't be soldiers." The specialist snapped her thumb and index finger and laughed, "But they're not ALL like that. O'Donnell and the others, they're nice guys, I mean, Mannis, he looks after me even though he doesn't have to," referring to two other service men that were rescued with McCarthy.

"Yeah," Erin nodded, "Charles and Jenifer, they're not like that. They accepted me and the others and look at us!" extending her arms to the side showing her developing muscles. She wasn't buff but her original thin body did have more meat on her. "I was born four months premature and I use to wear a back brace. I didn't tell them that when I first got here, and the work did hurt for awhile, but I toughed it out."

"You toughed it out?" McCarthy looked at her in a teasing smile.

"That's right! I toughed it out!" Erin laughed.

The two young ones were having their fun and remembering it Erin could feel warm as she stood watch as the wind continued to blow over the tree tops and with that came the fresh scent of nature. She couldn't see that far out but as the first hour dragged on and the cold was starting to make her legs numb Erin bent at the knees and started balling her fists to keep the blood flowing as she looked around the interior. The walls were cast darker shadows and she could barely see the garden or the simple tents next to them where the prisoners were, sleeping and trying to stay warm. They were not given much other than a couple of old ponchos and some blankets to stay warm. Even then they had to remove their boots to prevent an escape attempt. Angela thought that it was inhumane how they were being treated but all she could do was spout but was too timid to actually act against Jennifer and Charles whom were dead set against the prisoners immediately because of their hostile and inhumane actions.

The first hour was done. Now, it was all down hill from here. Erin was counting down the minutes where she could go inside again. She remembered that Jennifer had something planned for them in the morning. Which, doing the math in her head, if she were to go to bed as soon as she got off duty then she could get four more hours of precious sleep. But what exactly was the plan was not known at the time, but it did involve going outside the walls, something she was gunning for.

Half an hour left.

Still no activity. The prisoners were sleeping and outside the walls there was no sign of movement. Staying inside the office park at the start of the uprising was nerve racking. She was scared and was going to give up several times, but now she was cradling a rifle and ready to fight. She wanted to thank Jennifer and Charles and the others but Jenifer said to her that it was really all of Erin's own drive. Jennifer said, "We teach you, but you are the one that uses what you know." And now that she had time to sit alone and think on it, Jennifer was right. Being a receptionist was driving on itself because she was originally competing against Kelly and Pam, but she found her own spot in the end, but now she wonders what would happen if she continued to grow.

Finally her two hours were up. Down below here came Oscar, her relief. He came up and gave a subtle smile before taking Erin's place. He was tired but wrapped up warm with gloves and a balaclava and sent Erin on her way. Once inside she removed her scarf and place it on the hook. By now Jennifer and Charles had gone to bed leaving Erin to go back up to her room and tip toe to her side of the bed where McCarthy was softly snoring, remove her boots, roll under the sheet and drift off herself.


	24. Chapter 24

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters to The Office. They are owned by MSNBC. I do own Charles and Jennifer. They are my creation.

They had to get out of this place. It was too crowded with everyone, all of the office workers except Dwight and his cousin Mose, several rescued military personnel, several civilians that escaped from the Zimmerman farm, several militia prisoners…it was not the amount that this safe house was designed for and Charles and Jennifer began planning for their evacuation after word came down that the military was conducting one last sweep to extract any personnel into their safe havens along the east coast. The militia were starting to gain power in the area and were more of a threat than the zombies that started this. Everyone knew a plan was in motion but carried on with their chores and tried to relax.

Erin cracked open her diary as McCarthy rolled out of the bed and went for a shower.

_I hear that we are going to be leaving soon. Charles and Jennifer are on the radio and they are trying to get us out to Rhode Island. I'm very nervous because that means we have to leave this place. I feel at home here, but bad people are out there and the zombies as well. It reminds me of Gabe and his movies. He loved to watch horror movies. We would play Scrabble and the winner got to pick the movie. He always won them and picked horror movies. I didn't like them that much, but maybe I should have paid more attention to it because that's what it feels like being out there. If we do leave here and go to where the military is, I don't know what will happen to me. I don't want to be a soldier but I also don't want to lose McCarthy. She's very special to me. We've been talking up late at night. It's better than listening to Kelly and all her drama. Seriously, it's always about Ryan this, and Ryan that. Seriously, there are at least ten other guys here better than Ryan. Ryan is a complete douche. It takes Jennifer and Charles to get him to do anything. _

_I think that Kelly might be jealous of us because I keep seeing her trying to make out with Ryan in front of us but McCarthy, I should say Specialist McCarthy…hehe, even though it says Private on her ID. She was promoted and didn't have a chance to change it. I wonder if I have to change my own ID when I get to Rhode Island. She made a joke that there is a Specialist Mafia in the Army because there are a ton them and they are in every unit and in 'special areas' but I'm not supposed to talk about it, diary. It's a secret shhhh ;)_

Closing her diary and putting it away Erin went downstairs to see Michael at the kitchen table with the two children playing with toy trucks. The air was thick with the aroma of strong coffee and eggs and bacon being cooked. Because of his diabetes Stanley had to settle for orange juice. The others began to file in for their breakfast and sat around the table or leaned against the walls as Jennifer entered the room with a beaming smile on her face that made everyone stop what they were doing and look at her with full attention.

Jennifer stood near the head of the table next to Michael, "Good news. There's going to be a flight of CH-53s on their way tomorrow to pick all of us up."

"All of us?" Michael lifted up his head rather surprised.

"That's right. All of us. We'll be going to Rhode Island Naval Station," Jennifer said. It was a bit of refreshing news because now they knew that it was going to happen.

Everyone became excited. Darryl high-fived Madge beside him then quickly finished his eggs and Pam hugged Jim tightly.

Holding up a hand Jennifer said, "Hang on. Everyone is leaving. That means Charles and myself. The military wants us out of here. They say that the zombies are multiplying in larger numbers and they can't deal with them and the militia at the same time. We're going to spend the day going over drill for this and everyone is to pack their rucks. Take only what you need."

When she left the room the others looked about with confused minds. They were finally going to get out of here, but some didn't want to leave; like Erin, but others wanted to like Jim and Pam. Everyone had their own reasons but after breakfast they went outside to begin their drills. From what they were instructed on the radio the helicopters would only give one chance at this and if they blew it, they were on their own.

The area they had to get to was less than a kilometer away, a clearing in the forest but chances were the Militia were in the area and no one could tell when a zombie would pop up. Everything had to rely on stealth and discipline because they had a large amount of civilians and children with them. The soldiers, Charles and Jennifer would be leading the way with the office workers forming the protection around the rest in the center and rear of the group. Because of the new civilians they had to be taught on what to do during the various situations and the children had to be as silent as church mice. The two children were horrified that they would be going back out there. They knew what zombies were but were more scared of the 'the evil men with guns'.

Sergeant Mannis organized his team well. They would use their knowledge and tactics to approach the landing zone and circumnavigate it's perimeter entirely to find any sign of the enemy then rally back with the others on a small spur to the south there they would set up their defensive perimeter and call in their ride. Sounded easy on paper but Mannis, Cools, McCarthy, Coleman, O'Donnell, Burke, worked with Jennifer and Charles going over their radio traffic, formations, and tactics. It was too small of a place to do it effectively but they didn't want to go out and be under the eyes of the militia and the zombies, but they made due.

For the civilians they were preparing as well. The children were told to go outside and play and Michael went with them. He didn't have anything to pack and couldn't be relied upon to wield a weapon, but perhaps there was a use for him after all. As the soldiers trained and the prisoners dug, Michael could be heard being a train conductor out in front of the garage going in slow, wide circles with the little ones right behind him, laughing and smiling before they turned into airplanes and started flying towards the trees. There was a use for the man who was a child at heart. Their mother couldn't resist smiling as she looked on. She didn't seem to be afraid of him as Michael played with her children and it was the first time in a while that she did smile.

The others were packing. Jim had his ruck and was stuffing it and taking everything out, throwing out some things and looking at it again and repacking and looking at the clock. He was a mess and so was Pam. They were counting down the hours until they would be on their way to Cecelia. From what they were told they would leave before dawn, using the darkness to conceal their movement to reach the LZ and be there just as the sun was rising.

Inside her room Erin was packing when McCarthy came in after practice. The specialist put down her rifle, took off her TA-50, and shed her blouse. "That was fun," she sighed with a smile. "We'll be out of here soon…" that was obvious but there was something that was nagging at the back of her mind. She was just a simple receptionist with many problems. She couldn't be a soldier, she had many medical problems, but she wondered what would happen when she reached Rhode Island.

McCarthy shrugged her shoulders, "Probably stick you in a building somewhere. They'll keep us in the rear, "Like usual."

"What about you?" Erin asked.

"They'll put me back with my unit," McCarthy said, "or they'll stick me with people of my MOS" her tone conveyed a bit of disappointment. She was starting to like living her, though the living conditions were a bit tight at the moment she felt secured behind the tall, thick walls and being with people she trusted. "To be honest, I was about a year away from my four years. I use to be all staying inside my room and watching television and movies all day. It can be very boring when all by myself, you know?"

"What kind of movies?" Erin asked. Taking the rucksack and placing it on the top covers, pulling back the flap.

"All kinds. That that dribble of gooshy romances but some action, a little bit of drama, you know, oh, and The Rock in just about anything he does," her lips pulled back into a beaming smile and her cheeks blushed red as Erin laughed and playfully threw a balled up sock at her friend.

Angela had been bitter but quiet since she arrived at the safe haven. She was not pleased about leaving Dwight behind but did not express her sentiments with Charles or Jennifer and when she was given chores she didn't like doing some of them because she had to work with the others including Oscar and Pam and there was no privacy for her because of the new arrivals. She hated firearms as well so she felt that she was in hell. When told that they would be leaving for Rhode Island soon she finally summed up the courage to ask Jennifer in the dining room. The petite blonde approached Jennifer with her thin arms crossed before her chest and trying to put up a confident voice, "Will we be going to Dwight's farm and taking him as well? I mean, it's only right considering that he let us stay there for a long time."

Jennifer moved past her and made Angela catch up. The two didn't seem to like each other much for many different reasons but they were stuck with each other, "No," Jennifer replied shaking her head as she tied up her long, dark brunette hair into a high ended ponytail, "I don't want that man anywhere near me. He'll be left to his own devices," then she turned and headed towards the front door. Angela couldn't believe what she was hearing but she didn't know who else to talk to because there were no other bosses to this place besides Charles and Jennifer. She thought of Sergeant Mannis but decided against it because she didn't know the man and though she liked a man in uniform Mannis was a loud man. Feeling that she was trapped she turned and went inside to her room and wondered what to do.

Jim saw Angela in the second floor hallway and tried to say something but the accountant closed the door to her room. Having packed up his belongings with Pam the two were left wondering what to do and headed down to the dining room and heard Michael outside still playing with children. They had found some old Matchbox cars and were driving them on the driveway. "You know" Pam turned to Jim, "I've always wondered what would happen if Michael ever had kids of his own."

"You know," Jim smiled as he watch his former boss, "I've wondered the same thing, but then I remember, you need a mother in order to get to that stage and that's always been a disaster for him."

Pam giggled then nudged him in the gut, "Well, maybe things will change."

"Yeah, you know, maybe he can hook up with someone from here!" Jim said and that began the string of jokes.

Pam smiled, "Yeah, who? Angela?!"

"No! You're evil," said Jim who then suggested, "Madge!"

Unable to restrain herself Pam submitted, "What about Jennifer?" then looked around to make sure that she wasn't listening.

"No way," Jim replied, "Jennifer would be worse than Jan."


	25. Chapter 25

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters to The Office. They are owned by MSNBC. I do own Jennifer and Charles. They are my creation.

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters to The Office. They are owned by MSNBC. I do own Jennifer and Charles. They are my creation.

They had their orders to leave Solace. Some wanted to go to get to the Rhode Island Naval Base and safety while others, like Jennifer, didn't want to leave their home. This walled up place had been her and Charles place that they had made especially for themselves and kept them safe when the zombies rose. Their guests were unexpected, but mostly welcomed, but in the end they knew they had to leave. As the adults discussed what was going on inside, in front of the garage there were the two children playing with Michael Scott in a game of train where Michael was being the conductor and the children linked and following, "All aboard. Woot! Woot!" He was a kid at heart. He understood that the rest of the group was planning on leaving, however, he wasn't welcomed to go over the plans on account of his incompetence as well as his mental abilities. He was better off just playing with the children.

Inside the rest of the group was going over their plan. In order to get to the designated landing zone they had to go over a kilometer inside the forest to a small clearing that was overgrown with hip high grass. Scout activity of the area has said that there was no zombie or militia movement anywhere nearby so Charles was convinced that by the time they reached it they would have contact.

"Do we really have to leave?" Angela said, "I mean, if we go out there who knows when those people will come upon us and take us". She was scared to venture outside, she felt safe inside the walls, but not with the company of many of the others. "And what about Dwight? Are we just going to leave him?"

"Yes" everyone replied, much to her surprise.

"Why?!" Angela screamed.

"Angela" Pam began, "He threatened to kill a man for no reason."

The petite blonde former accountant stood with her thin arms crossed in front of her chest and she was shaking even though it was warm inside, and she looked over at Pam, the mother, and looked away unable to say anything else. There was nothing she could say that would make them have pity for Dwight and make them risk going back to Shrute Farms to retrieve him. He was smart and had resources, he could adapt to the situation, but Angela couldn't let go and left the room with watering eyes.

"We can't stay," McCarthy sighed, "The militia are growing in number and firepower. If we stay here, we'll easily be overrun." Some of the others agreed. Pam nodded but her reason in leaving was to get to Rhode Island to get to her daughter. After previous encounters with these people the group agreed and listened as Charles and Jennifer began laying down the plans for their departure. The landing zone for their pick up was already planned and the people at Rhode Island Naval Station were keeping an eye on it. What they needed to do was to clean up their site before they moved on. Every bit of paper with information had to be destroyed, this included old tax forms, Veterans Affairs appointments and what not had to be burned to prevent them from falling into enemy hands, but to burn it would give them away to the militia, but there was always a plan and Jennifer took several of them outside with a open barrel with punctured barrels and all of the papers were brought out as Jennifer instructed that the papers be crumbled into balls. She told them, "Tonight there will be a new moon and low cloud cover. That will mask our smoke when we burn this."

Erin was one of those helping to destroy the papers. "Why not just bury it?" she asked as she took several formed and crunched them all into a baseball sized chunk.

"Because it can be dug up," Jennifer replied as she worked along side her. "Burning is the best way so that it's entirely destroyed. We'll burn it a little at a time so that the flames don't give us away." Kevin and Oscar were helping as well as Charles directed that every person be given supplies as he went over their plans with McCarthy and the other military personnel. Everyone was doing something, the place was humming. The militia prisoners taken were even coming with them, but they weren't told this because if they escaped now then they could warn their comrades and set up an ambush for the helicopters. Weapons were to be given out to everyone that could wield it and were to be given ammunition and enough rations and water for three days just in case the worst were to happen.

The rescued mother with her two children were sitting outside on the porch with the children playing with their cars when they were approached by Michael Scott who sat down next to them and began to play. In a short amount of time Michael was going around in circles in the front yard playing train conductor with the two children following behind him as cars. "Woo woo!" Michael laughed as he pulled down on an imaginary cord for a steam whistle. The mother smiled as she watched this as the children laughed at this older man as they went around in the soft, green grass as Pam stepped out in the cool air. The mother flicked her eyes over at Pam and asked, "Who is that man?"

"That's Michael" Pam replied looking at her quickly then over at Michael as he turned into an airplane, arms stretching out to the side, palms down, "Zzzzrooom!" and the kids followed suit. They were having a great time and even Pam could admire as Michael was actually doing something worth while. He may not be a boss or a leader, but he was a kid at heart and was with the right people and the kids were forgetting about what or who was outside the walls at least for a while.


End file.
